Slytherin Is As Slytherin Does
by Ailleann
Summary: Draco and Hermione's personal war gets taken a little too far. When they make a truce of sorts, they start to see each other in a different light. [Some HPGW but mostly DMHG]
1. I Hate Draco Malfoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that shows up in J.K. Rowling's books. We all know that--of course.

"I hate Draco Malfoy!" Hermione spat viciously as she stomped out of Potions class, Ginny on her heels. When the Slytherins strolled leisurely out of the classroom, they were smirking at Hermione, including the one who had incurred Hermione's wrath. Ginny patted Hermione's shoulder sympathetically. "I know, Mione. He's a bastard," she said supportively, as Hermione continued to mutter beneath her breath.

Hermione nodded and muttered beneath her breath as they walked to their History of Magic class. When they got there, Hermione sat down beside Harry and crossed her arms over her chest. Ginny sat down beside Harry and he slipped one arm around her waist. He leaned close and murmured in Ginny's ear, "What's up with Hermione?"

"Draco," she muttered. Harry looked annoyed, then resigned. 

"What happened today?" It was well known that there was a private war being enacted between Hermione and Draco.

Ginny glowered. "Draco put some ice down Hermione's back, and when she jumped, Snape took twenty points from Gryffindor." Harry's face twisted sympathetically. Losing the points from her whole House because of her personal war with Draco would hit Hermione hard. Ron, who was on the other side of Harry, craned his head to look at Hermione. "Hey, don't worry about it, Hermione. We'll get him back," he said, his voice encouraging.

Hermione muttered unintelligibly beneath her breath and just glared malevolently at the tabletop, wishing that it was Draco's face so she could smash it. Ron glanced over at Ginny and Harry, and tried not to look too closely at them cuddled together. Although he heartily approved of the match between Ginny and Harry, he didn't want to think too hard about it or he'd just get pissed off that somebody was messing around with his little sister. Just then class started, so everyone either fell asleep or actually started to pay attention to class.

Ginny, Harry and Ron were three of those who immediately fell asleep. Although usually Hermione would have listened and taken notes, now she was preoccupied with her thoughts. It really irritated her that Draco had made her get points taken off from her House. She would have to talk to him. This little war of theirs was going too far. 

But then she thought, why the hell would Draco care? He would continue it if for no other reason than it was annoying her past redemption. But if he continued in the same vein, she wasn't going to be responsible for her actions. She just might have to murder Draco with a lead pipe if he didn't ease off. She brooded throughout History of Magic, not taking any notes for once.

Once class was over, the group trooped out of class. When Ron noticed that Hermione was still brooding, he glanced sideways at Harry, then said, "Hermione, it's not a big deal. He'll get over his stupid need to bother you."

"I know," Hermione muttered distractedly. Ron raised one eyebrow and gave up on trying to talk to her when she was so obviously distracted.

When they got back to the Gryffindor common room, Hermione immediately sank down into a chair by the warm fire and descended into more thought. By mutual thought, her friends left her alone.

When Hermione came awake later, she realized that she had fallen asleep. The fire was still blazing strongly in the hearth, keeping her warm, although no one else was in the common room. Startled, she realized that she had slept the rest of the day away, and it was already night. Obviously everyone had feared to bother her.

Wanting to talk to Draco when no one would bother them, she rose from her chair and muttered absently, "_Accio_ parchment." A piece of parchment flew into her hands and she started scribbling swiftly on it. Then she rolled it up and glanced around. Crookshanks was lounging idly on a nearby sofa, his yellow eyes glaring balefully at her. "Oh c'mon," Hermione coaxed. "I'll ask the house elves to get you some of that smoked salmon that you like so much," she said persuasively.

Crookshanks glared at her for another minute, then slid off the couch and stalked over to her and snagged the small roll of parchment from her. "It goes to Draco Malfoy's room," she told him. "And please get it there as _soon _as possible. You get extra pieces of salmon the faster it gets there."

Crookshanks walked away, nose in the air, holding hard to his pride. Once he was out the door, he immediately stepped up his pace. Amused by her cat, Hermione rose. Her hair was mashed from sleeping at such an odd angle, but it had at least flattened out some of the bushiness, creating softer waves. She patted her pockets absently to make sure that she had her wand, then made her way out of the common room and into the hallways.

Moonlight filtered in through the high windows, creating ivory patterns on the stone floors and walls. Hermione glanced around to make sure that she was unobserved, then walked quickly down the hallway. She had asked Draco to meet her outside, beneath one of the willow trees. Not _the_ Whomping Willow, just a regular willow, thank goodness. She had always liked the tree; there was an elegance to it that pleased her.

Once she got to the willow, she felt a little safer within the safety of its whiplike branches that hid her. The drooping branches of the tree served as a curtain between her and the rest of the world. No one would be able to see anything past the screen of leaves, giving her meeting with Draco perfect anonymity.

She looked around, feeling something within her ease. She loved the night. There was a stillness to it that she liked. The whole world was sleeping. The night hid the shadows that plagued her in the day. At night, there was no one to judge her, to dismiss her as the brains behind Harry Potter. Through a small break in the willow's branches, she could see the moonlight glitter off the calm surface of the lake. There was a peacefulness that eased the tension that had tightened her shoulders.

Almost forgetting about her proposed meeting to Draco, she stepped from behind the screen of the willow and out into the full moonlight. The soft sound of the water shifting was the only sound that broke the silence of the night. She lifted her face up to the moonlight, feeling it spill over her like a cool stream of silver. Hermione closed her eyes, breathing in the cool air and just letting herself breathe in the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco stared at Hermione, his breath catching. He had never imagined Hermione as beautiful, but the fact was impossible to escape. She was a creature of the night, a seductive woodland nymph. Her face was turned up to the moon, a small smile curving her full lips. Her normally unmanagable, mousy brown hair was transformed into a dark mink-brown that spilled luxuriously down her back. Moonlight winked through the dark strands, almost as if she had stars braided into her hair. The hem of her robes moved slightly in a small wind, rustling silently around her ankles, molding her robes to her body one instant and then flaring the next. Almost as if she sensed him standing there, she turned to look at him, opening her eyes.

Staring into her eyes, he felt like someone had punched him in the chest. Night had made her eyes as dark as a piece of polished obsidian. The play of moonlight over her face made them look deep and mysterious. He felt like he could drown in her eyes, and love every second of it.

Stunned at himself, he just stared at her for a long minute. He didn't even _like _Hermione. Not at all. She was a mudblood, for Merlin's sake! And she hung out with Harry Potter, which was enough of a black mark in his opinion. But standing here in the moonlight, she was a different creature than the uptight, bookworm girl that he tormented every day. But he found himself wanting to slide his hands through that star-kissed hair, brush his lips over that pulse beating steadily in her milky white throat, then work his way up to those luscious lips that were still curved in that dreamy smile. . . .NO! He shut down that thought, but his muscles tightened in rebellion. They liked those thoughts of Hermione. But his mind didn't.

Annoyed that she had put him into turmoil, his voice came out sharp. "What the hell did you drag me out of bed for, Granger?"

Hermione blinked, looking as if she were coming out of a dream. She shook her head as if she were disoriented, then stared at him for a moment. Then her lip curled, and the Granger that Draco knew and hated returned. Her appearance hadn't changed--she still had that ethereal, wood nymph quality--but she had regained her snappish personality that he was used to.

"We need to talk, Malfoy," she snapped, and stalked back into the protection of the willow. Heaving a sigh, Draco followed her.


	2. Meeting at Midnight

Disclaimer: Yada yada yada, I don't own anything that's J.K. Rowling's. Yup. That's the way the cookie crumbles, cookie. *grins*

__

Please R&R. It makes me VERY happy. 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Once they were within the confines of the willow, Hermione flicked Draco a contemptuous glance that immediately banished the lingering thoughts of the way she had looked in the moonlight. It raised his shields in an instant, and he sneered back at her. Finally Hermione turned resolutely to face him. She tried not to notice that the broken moonlight that filtered through the branches turned his face into an array of fascinating planes and angles that showed his icy masculine beauty. Despite that Hermione despised Malfoy, she wasn't going to deny to herself that he was a good looking guy.

Shoving those thoughts away, Hermione said firmly, "All this stuff needs to stop, Malfoy."

Arrogantly, Draco arched one eyebrow at her. "What stuff?" he asked, deliberately playing dumb, just to watch her get riled up.

Sure enough, she nearly bristled. "This little war that we've got going on," she said through gritted teeth. "It's progressing beyond just us, Malfoy. When it starts involving the points for my whole House, then it's getting out of control."

Draco's mouth quirked in a ruthless movement. "And what makes you think I'm going to stop because I'm getting points taken away from Gryffindor, Granger? That's my dream come true." The sarcastic amusement at her expense made Hermione grit her teeth.

"Because," she said with exaggerated slowness, "if you don't stop, I'll put a hex on you."

Draco laughed insolently and gave a mock shudder, holding his hands out as if in supplication. "Oh no! The mighty mudblood Granger's going to put a hex on me!" He simpered and held one hand to his head as if in terror.

Hermione's hands dove into her pocket for her wand. Her fingers had just closed around the smooth wooden grip when she was shoved back against the trunk of the tree, her hands imprisoned by Draco's. His face was very close to hers, his gray eyes boring down into hers. "I wouldn't do that, Granger," he said dangerously. "I don't take kindly to threats."

"I wasn't threatening you," she shot back venomously. "I was going to actually do. . .something!"

He laughed nastily. "Oh really? And how were you going to explain away the fact that I was outside school grounds when you had sent a summons for me to meet you here?"

"Nobody knows you're out here," Hermione said hotly.

He raised one eyebrow at her. "Oh really? How do you know I didn't tell Crabbe or Goyle where I was going?"

"Because they're too stupid to remember it five minutes later," Hermione said in disdain.

"True," Draco muttered under his breath. Then he returned his attention to her. "That's not the issue here, Granger. I don't take kindly to being threatened, whether or not you're going to do it."

Hermione glared at him. "I don't give a damn what you 'take kindly to', Malfoy. Let go of me!" She struggled briefly, but he easily pinned her with his greater strength. When she subsided, panting slightly, he just stared at her with a bored look in his gray eyes.

"Done?" he asked, his tone just as bored as his facial expression.

She fumed impotently, but didn't say anything. If she had been free, she would have crossed her arms militantly over her chest. "I want your word that you'll stop, Malfoy!" she said in annoyance. She ignored that he still had her pinned up against the tree, because it was so undignified that she didn't even acknowledge that it was happening. 

"But I'm not going to give you my word, my sweet," he leered. "Because it doesn't benefit me to leave you alone. As far as I see it, it's all pros on my side for me to continue to bother the hell out of you."

Hermione fumed, her eyes flashing sparks. "You might be safe now, but you can't keep me up against this tree forever!" she said furiously. "And I'll get you, Malfoy! If you don't stop, then you won't be able to keep up your man-whoring."

Draco blinked, startled at the turn the conversation had abruptly taken. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, genuinely baffled.

Her eyes nearly spit sparks at him. "Your man-whoring," she said with disdain. "Don't think that your reputation hasn't preceded you, Malfoy. You've had almost every witch in Slytherin, and a few in other Houses." She lifted her chin proudly. "But not Gryffindor." She flicked her eyes up and down his lean, muscular form and her eyes obviously dismissed him as a waste. "Because Gryffindors have taste."

Draco's eyes fired. "Oh really?" he asked silkily. "Then why is one of those oh-so-perfect Gryffindors outside in the middle of night with the Slytherin Stud?"

"I see you keep up with the tales of your exploits," Hermione said distastefully, choosing to ignore his question as a ridiculous one.

Draco smirked at her. "Why shouldn't I?" he asked nonchalantly. "Have to make sure they get it right, don't I?"

"Or exaggerate it enough," Hermione said sweetly. "After all, there's obviously not much to work with, so I guess you'd have to expand a little in the stories to make up for it." Her obvious double entendre made Draco's eyebrow raise.

"Well well," he murmured. "Aren't we the clever witch?"

"It's what I'm known for," Hermione said sweetly.

Draco nearly smiled. "Now back to my man-whoring," he mused. "How are you going to stop this most enjoyable facet of my life?"

Hermione smiled viciously and her eyes flicked downward. Draco suppressed the sudden urge to step away and cross his legs protectively. Then she crooned gently, "Why, Draco, I know some things that even _ennervate_ can't bring back to--life."

Draco nearly choked, then he stared at her in shock. "Why, you little bitch." The words were said in a wondering tone. Although he was wary of the validity of her threat, he was surprised that she had even made it. He would never have thought Granger would be so delightfully vicious. It was so very. . . .Slytherin of her.

When he considered it, he nearly growled. There was just enough fire in her expression to make him wonder if she'd really do it. And he didn't like to think about the possible threat to his most precious--jewels. Which meant that he was going to have to actually do what she wanted. Just the thought of bowing under to a Gryffindor was bad enough. That it was Granger was another smack in the face. But if he didn't want to take the risk of incurring her wrath to that degree, he was going to have to agree.

"Fine," he muttered with little grace. "I won't bother you, Granger."

She looked at him with a pleased expression. "Thank you, Malfoy," she said serenely.

Now that they had solved their problem, they suddenly realized how close they were. Draco had her hands pressed above her head so that she couldn't claw at him or shove him away, and his body was pressed against hers to pin her against the tree. Every delightful curve in her little body was outlined against his much harder, stronger body. Their faces were so close together that he could almost see his reflection in her eyes. Involuntarily, his eyes dropped to her lips that were slightly parted.

He was pressed so closely against her that he felt her heart kick into high gear. He looked back up at her eyes again and saw that they were as wide as saucers. Whereas she had been as tight as wires beneath his hands before, her arms had relaxed. Her whole body had softened against him, nearly making him groan. Merlin, what was happening here? This was _Granger, _the witch who had just threatened him with impotency if he didn't do what she wanted. Besides that, she was a mudblood. He despised her. But his body wasn't thinking about that. All that his body was thinking about was that her curvy little body was pressed up against him and he was _very _happy to have her there.

Coming abruptly to his senses, he jumped away from her as if she were on fire. He stopped when he was half the distance away from her, staring at her with wide eyes. He wiped his hands on his robes, still a little shell-shocked. Hermione's arms dropped to her sides, and she stared at Draco just as intently as he was staring at her. She knew that she hadn't imagined it. She had felt Draco's body tighten against hers, felt his heart start to race. He had felt the sudden, weird attraction just as she had.

They stared at each other in silence for several moments until Hermione turned away abruptly. "I've got to get back," she muttered.

Draco swiftly turned on his heel. "Me too," he muttered, resolutely not looking at her as she did the same. He mounted his Firebolt and whizzed up to his window as Hermione trudged along back to the castle. Both felt a sense of disquiet as they left the willow, and as she walked, Hermione absently traced the fading lines on her wrists where Draco's fingers had clasped them.


	3. Homework Hassles

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns it all, the lucky gal, not I. (said the little Red Hen)

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione was hollow-eyed from lack of sleep. All last night she had lain awake, thinking about the encounter with Draco. What was that weird attraction thing that had happened right before they left? It was incomprehensible that they should be attracted to each other. They _despised _each other; had ever since the first day in their first year. Why should that change in their sixth year, when they were just a year away from being free of each other? Besides, she rationalized, it wasn't Draco that she had been attracted to. With the lingering remains of the peace of the night still in her, her defenses were down. Any handsome man would have caused the same reaction, she told herself firmly as she dressed. And Draco was certainly handsome, she wasn't disputing that. Unbidden, the image of his intense gray eyes rose in her mind, causing a funny little clutch in her stomach.

Furious with herself, Hermione stomped her feet into her shoes and grabbed up her books. Downstairs in the Gryffindor common room, she ran into Harry. He looked startled at her appearance. "Hey, Hermione, you ok?" he asked tentatively. "We were a little worried about you yesterday. You were a little, um. . ."

"Scary?" Hermione supplied helpfully, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah," he said, relief lightening his emeraldine eyes. He looked closely at her. "But you're ok now?"

Hermione smiled and patted him gently on the shoulder. "I'm fine now, Harry. I promise."

Harry smiled and nodded as Ginny and Ron came downstairs, arguing about some move in wizard's chess. When she came within reach, Harry's arm slid smoothly around Ginny's waist, and she tipped up her chin for his kiss. Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. It was like a smoothly executed dance, and Harry and Ginny knew every step perfectly. They were so good together, and it made her heart hurt that she would never experience that. Involuntarily, her memory swept her back to the night before, but she shoved it out of her head unmercifully.

"C'mon," she said, her voice more curt than she had planned. "Let's go eat. I'm starving."

The four trooped down to the Great Hall, chattering aimably. Hermione made herself try to participate in the conversation, but she was still quieter than usual. When they reached the Great Hall and sat down, food immediately appeared on their plates. Harry and Ron dug in, with Ginny eating a little more delicately, and Hermione nibbling absently.

Suddenly, gooseflesh rose along her arms. Going on instinct, she looked up at the entrance to the Great Hall and saw Draco standing there, surrounded by his groupies. Pansy Parkinson was there, fawning all over him, and Crabbe and Goyle were hanging back like the thugs they were. Blaise Zabini's eyes were roaming the room, making her shiver. She didn't like Blaise one bit. He made her uneasy. 

Draco paused in the doorway, and his gaze swept the room, alighting on her. Their eyes met, and Hermione's toes curled. There was a savage heat in his gray eyes until the mask dropped down over his features again. Saying something cutting to Blaise that made him laugh, Draco sauntered over and sat down at the Slytherin table.

Feeling her cheeks flame with shame, knowing that he had said something about her, Hermione looked down at her hands in her lap. They were twisted together in a painful knot, betraying her emotions. But at least they were hidden by the table so no one could see. _Well, he's living up to his end of the bargain_, Hermione thought sourly. Usually he would have approached the table to say something cruel to her. At least now he hadn't confronted her with it. She would obviously have to be satisfied with that. Taking her emotions firmly in hand, she glanced up and saw Ginny watching her with a raised eyebrow.

"What was that?" Ginny asked, a small smile quirking her lips.

"What was what?" Hermione asked, instantly regretting the defensive tone in her voice.

Ginny's smile widened deviously and she gestured with her chin toward the Slytherin table. "That look. With Draco."

Instantly Harry and Ron glanced up, their attention caught. Hermione resisted the urge to bolt from the table, but she had the distinct look of a deer in headlights. "I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. "I haven't had a 'look' with Malfoy. I hate his guts."

"Mm. So you do." Ginny agreed, but her tone said that she didn't believe it. Feeling her cheeks heat, Hermione dug into her food with a new purpose. She did _not _want to meet Ginny's gaze. The damned girl saw too much.

Harry glanced between Ginny and Hermione, wanting to ask what was going on. One minute he had been peacefully eating his breakfast, and then the next Ginny was looking at Hermione like there was something that she wanted to say, but was holding her tongue. And since they were talking about Draco, that made him wary. But he could see the tension in Hermione's shoulders, and realized that if he said anything, she'd probably take his head off. So he chose discretion as the better part of valor and turned his eyes back to his breakfast with a single-minded intensity that almost overshadowed Hermione's.

Once breakfast was over, Hermione headed to Divination, which she didn't have with any of her other friends. Unfortunately, she did have it with Draco. Feeling cranky because she hadn't gotten any sleep, she made her way through the hallways until she got to the tower that was where the Divination classes were held.

When she sat down in her seat, Draco was already in his corner of the room, holding court. He didn't even look at her when she came in, which was just fine with her. She didn't want to see him anyway, she thought spitefully. She dug through her books, looking for her homework, then froze when she realized that she had forgotten to do it.

_Think, think, think_, she thought frantically. What had been the assignment? Her mind rooted anxiously through all the things she could remember from Divination, then lit on the assignment a moment later. Trelawney had asked them to tell everything that they knew or could find on the subject of the divination practices of centaurs.

Hermione tried to calm her breathing. Ok, she told herself firmly. You can do this. You've talked to Firenze at length. You've _got _this.

But when Trelawney walked into the room, she said dramatically, "Please take out your essays on centaur divination."

_Oh shit_, Hermione thought blankly_. It had to be an essay. I can't BS this one_. Her mind worked frantically, then accepted that she was going to have to tell Trelawney that she didn't have her assignment. She let out a deep breath, biting her lip anxiously. She felt the hot lash of failure claw at her throat, and tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she resolutely shoved them away. It's just a stupid essay, she told herself sternly. Just _one_, out of all the assignments that I've ever done. It's not that big of a deal.

When Trelawney walked up to Hermione's desk and held out her hand with a dramatic flair, Hermione nearly shrank into herself. "I don't have mine," she said, her voice nearly inaudible.

Trelawney blinked several times. "I beg your pardon?"

Hermione swallowed, her pulse hammering in her throat. "I don't have mine." She made an effort to strengthen her voice, but it didn't come out much louder than before. But it was enough to cause the whole class to silence and turn their attention to the small drama being enacted between Hermione and Trelawney.

Trelawney stared at Hermione. "_You_ don't have your homework, Miss Granger?"

Hermione wanted to scream at her. Wasn't that what she had just said? The tension in her neck felt like it was going to snap her muscles any second. "That's right." Her voice was just as soft as before. When Trelawney gaped at her, Hermione said in a small voice, "May I be excused from class, Professor? I don't feel very well."

"Yes," Trelawney said, frowning slightly. With her head bowed, Hermione gathered up her books and made her way swiftly out of the silent class that watched her go in astonishment. Once she was out of the room, she broke into a run before she found a small nook in the wall. Then she slid down the wall and into a miserable puddle on the floor. She drew her knees up against her chest and laid her head on her knees, defeat in every line of her body.

Damn Draco Malfoy! she thought furiously. If he hadn't been so intent on bothering me, I wouldn't have had to ask him to meet me, and I wouldn't have forgotten to do my homework. This is all his fault! Then moments later, her shoulders slumped. No, she admitted privately to herself. It was her fault. She had been lax in her responsibilities. She heard her mother's voice in her head, harping, griping that Hermione had a responsibility to uphold the family standard. Just because she was a witch and wasn't going to be a doctor like both of her parents didn't mean that she was allowed to fall beneath their standards. And their standards were high. So high that sometimes Hermione felt like she was crushed beneath all the pressure that they exerted on her. She knew that they cared about her, but she felt smothered beneath their single-minded intensity that she do well.

She felt the pressure every single day when she was in school, but it was better than when she was at home. At home they made her study every night. If she didn't study, she didn't eat. Oftentimes she had had to study through dinner, and thereby missed eating that night. Over the summer, her figure had thinned down some, but there were still the curves that Draco had noticed last night. Although it was true that Hermione was pressured by her parents, she had her own drive and ambition. She liked being smart. Felt a fierce satisfaction all the way down to her toes whenever she did well. And failure was a bitter stone to sit in her stomach.

Knowing that she was hidden from prying eyes, Hermione let her guards down and let herself sag, her weight supported by her knees. Then she just let herself sit and try to think of nothing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Draco saw Hermione's frantic search through her books, the thought that immediately sprang up at him was that she had forgotten her homework. That thought he immediately banished. She was Hermione Granger--Hermione Granger _never _forgot to do her homework. When Trelawney stopped in front of her, her hand outstretched for Hermione's homework, and Hermione just curled in on herself, surprise froze him in his seat. By Merlin, the fool woman had really forgotten her homework! Obviously the rest of the class was just as speechless as he, because the room fell silent. Trelawney leaned forward slightly and asked for Hermione's homework again. A moment later, Hermione rose, fairly vibrating with tension. Her eyes were downcast, and he could see the quick sheen of tears in them before her hair fell down in a curtain that shielded her face. She gathered up her books quickly and then hurried out of the room.

There was silence for another moment, then Pansy giggled and said maliciously, "Look how the mighty have fallen."

Draco suppressed the urge to tell her to shut her mouth, and the equally strong urge to stand up and follow Hermione to make sure she was ok. Startled with both thoughts, Draco clamped his mouth shut. But involuntarily, his annoyed gaze went to Pansy. "You're such a bitch," he said mildly, and her mouth snapped shut in surprise.

She glared furiously at him. "As if you're one to talk, Draco! You hate that little mudblood bitch, and everybody knows it!"

Draco looked at her with cold eyes, and she shivered and turned away. He turned and saw that Blaise was watching him with a raised eyebrow. Draco shrugged, feeling the disquiet that had been dogging him since last night increase. _Dammit_. Hermione Granger was tying him up in knots. It was ridiculous, and something he would have never thought would happen. Still annoyed at Pansy and himself, he turned his attention to Trelawney as she started class, but his mind was elsewhere, reluctantly wondering where Hermione had gone.


	4. A Mother in Training

Disclaimer: I don't own J.K. Rowling's stuff. Darn it.

* * *

It was a while later before Hermione felt a gentle touch on her elbow. Ginny was crouched beside her, her hazel eyes concerned. "Hermione?" Ginny asked anxiously. "Are you okay?"

Fuzzily, Hermione stared at her for a moment, willing her mind to focus. She had just let go of everything for a while, and obviously she had lost track of time. She made a move to stand, and her legs almost collapsed beneath her. "Yeah, I'm okay, Ginny," she said, trying to sound reassuring. But the concern still remained in Ginny's face.

"Here," she said anxiously. "You're sick. Let me take you to Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione smiled, her mouth twisted bitterly. "There's nothing physically wrong with me, Ginny. Just some hang-ups that I have to get over."

Ginny looked confused, but she helped Hermione to her feet. "Well at least let me take you back to the dormitory," Ginny said, biting her lip. "You don't like very well, Mione. You scared me to death when I saw you sitting there. I thought you were dead for a minute there."

Hermione shivered at the picture that evoked in her mind. No wonder Ginny looked spooked. Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand gently. "I'm sorry I scared you, Gin. I was just--thinking," she said lamely.

Ginny gave her a skeptical look and put one hand under Hermione's elbow. Hermione was a little wobbly on her feet, considering that she couldn't feel them. She wondered absently how long she had been sitting there, because everything from knees down was asleep. Tiny prickles of sensation stabbed mercilessly at her legs, and she winced with each step until some of the blood started to flow again.

The halls were quiet, and there were only a few students wandering the halls. They all gave Ginny and Hermione curious looks, but no one spoke to them, for which Hermione was pathetically grateful. She was annoyed that she had let herself get so worked up about missing just _one _assignment. It wasn't like it was the end of the world. But when she had realized that she had forgotten to do it, she had felt her mother's words sting like a lash. _You're a failure, Hermione. Why can't you ever do anything right? Your father and I were both PhDs. But you don't want to do that. You want to go to this "witchcraft" school. That's trying our patience, young lady. You had better hold up good grades in there, or you'll be coming back here for good._ Just the thought was enough to make Hermione shiver.

Suddenly realizing that it was between classes, Hermione looked at Ginny and frowned. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Shouldn't you?" Ginny asked serenely, and with a jolt, Hermione realized that she should. She should be in Care of Magical Creatures with Harry and Ron. They're probably wondering where I am, she thought wistfully.

"I asked first," Hermione retorted, and Ginny smiled slightly. Some of Hermione's fire was returning to her, and Ginny felt some of the tension inside her stomach ease a little. When she had come upon Hermione, who was almost hidden in a tiny nook in the wall, she hadn't thought it was Hermione. But it was the barely tamed hair that had tipped her off. When she had knelt beside Hermione, the other girl was so silent and still that for a split second Ginny had thought she was dead. But when Ginny touched her, Hermione had come around, albeit looking a little dazed.

"I have Charms," Ginny informed her. "Professor Flitwick likes me. He won't mind if I'm a little late, especially if I tell him that I was taking a student to the hospital wing."

Hermione glared and dug in her heels. "I'm not going to the hospital wing, Ginny."

"I know that," Ginny said calmly. "But he won't. Now come on and stop being such a big baby. We're just going to take you back to your bed and let you rest for a while."

"I can't rest for a while," Hermione muttered as they came to the Fat Lady's portrait. She absently noted that the password had been changed to "jingle beans," and then Ginny was helping her up the stairs to her room.

Carefully, feeling like an old woman, Hermione eased down on the soft bed. After sitting in the damp hallways for Merlin knew how long, the softness of her bed was a welcome relief. "And why can't you rest for a while?" Ginny asked, her voice stern and businesslike.

Through a haze of impending sleep, Hermione cracked one eyelid at Ginny. "Merlin, you sound just like your mother," she muttered, and saw Ginny's quick flash of a grin.

"Stop avoiding the question," Ginny scolded as she gently untied Hermione's shoes and eased them off to sit them beside the bed. Hermione curled over on one side and muttered, "I've _got _to go to Potions. I can't miss that one."

"I'll wake you up," Ginny said soothingly. "Just rest for a little while, ok? You won't be any good in Potions if you're about to fall asleep."

Hermione mumbled something indistinguishable before she burrowed into her pillow and fell asleep. Once she was sure that Hermione was asleep, Ginny sat carefully on the edge of Hermione's bed, concern creasing her brow. For the past few days, something had been bothering Hermione, and it worried Ginny. Hermione was rarely eating, and she had been sleeping at odd hours, and she had displayed increasingly odd behavior. Ginny chewed anxiously on her lip. She wasn't sure if she should just plain ask Hermione what was wrong, but she knew that now wasn't the time. Despite she had told Hermione, Professor Flitwick wasn't going to like her coming into class late.

Still worrying over the problem with Hermione in her mind, Ginny rose and bustled around Hermione's room briefly. She set an alarm so that it would wake Hermione before her Potions class, then looked at Hermione for a moment, worry darkening her hazel eyes. "I wish you would tell me what's wrong," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. Then she hurried downstairs and to her Charms class.


	5. Meet me Tonight

Disclaimer: I figure that everybody's figured out by now that J.K. Rowling owns it all. If ya haven't--then I worry about you.

A/N: This is a long chapter, so stick with me! ^_^ Also, I'm updating pretty much daily right now, but I'm going to start back to school in a couple of days, so I'm not sure how often I'll update once school starts again. *is sad* But I _will _make the effort to update fairly often, so never fear! *trumpets toot*

Hermione woke with a start when her alarm shrieked at her to wake up. She groped blindly for it, and when it wasn't in her easy reach like it usually was, she started to mutter dire threats under her breath. She cracked her eyes open, and saw that daylight was streaming in the windows. She frowned, surprised. Why was it daylight already? Usually it was still dark outside when she woke up. All at once, the events of the past two days flooded back to her, and she sat straight up in her bed, eyes wide.

She looked down at her watch and saw that she had plenty of time to get to Potions. Bless Ginny, she thought in relief. The girl was a miracle worker. Hermione glanced around the room and located the alarm clock and slapped off the alarm. This is getting to be too much of a habit, she thought sourly. Sleeping at all hours, forgetting homework. . .what was next? Just as the thought formed, she blinked it away. Merlin, she thought wearily, I don't even want to _think_ about what could be next.

She rose and washed her face, then pulled her wild hair into a long braid down her back. She didn't see the fragility in her face, or the paleness of her cheeks, but she definitely knew that she wasn't looking her best. But then, why do I care? she asked herself sternly. I'm not trying to impress anyone, _especially_ not today. Involuntarily, her mind flew to Draco, and she nearly groaned aloud when she realized that she would be having Potions with him in just a few minutes. But then, Ron and Harry would be there, she comforted herself. That would lessen the sting of having to be in the same room as Draco.

She gathered up all her books and made her way down to Potions and sat in her seat. Draco was already there. When she walked into class, his eyes flicked up to hers and held for a moment. Her breath strangled in her throat as she stared at him with wide doe eyes. Finally he looked away and laughed at something Blaise had said. Feeling off balance, Hermione sat in her seat and looked down at the table top. Absently, her hand went to her head and massaged one of her temples. She could feel a headache brewing already, and she hadn't even been in class for more than a minute.

Moments later, Ron and Harry plopped down beside her, concern on their faces. "Hey, Mione. You weren't in last class. Are you okay?" Ron asked anxiously, his sharp blue gaze taking in the paleness of Hermione's cheeks and the vestiges of emotional upheaval in her eyes.

Hermione smiled at Ron, feeling some of her burdens lighten on her shoulders. She reached across Harry and squeezed Ron's hand briefly. "I'm fine, Ron. I just wasn't feeling very well."

"Is it--is it. . .that _time_?" Ron stumbled over his question, his cheeks burning just as red as his hair.

Hermione blinked rapidly. "I beg your pardon?" Her voice was icily stiff, making it perfectly clear that she was _not _going to touch on that subject.

Still furiously embarrassed that he had even asked, Ron waved it away hastily as Snape entered the room. "Get out your homework, class," he said in his oily voice.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she had already done Snape's homework head of time. She _always _made sure that she finished his early because she _never_ wanted to be caught without her homework in his class. The small hairs on the nape of her neck rose with the feeling that she was being watched. She bit her lip slightly and then shifted her eyes swiftly towards Draco. He wasn't looking at her, but Blaise Zabini was. She shivered, immediately moving her eyes away from him. Blaise gave her the creeps, and having him stare at her with that single-minded intensity didn't help matters. Why were all the Slytherins suddenly taking an interest in her? Hermione wondered acidly. She could understand Draco--they had had that. . .thing the night before. But why Blaise?

Then a thought struck her, and her hands trembled once. But it wasn't with weakness, or hurt. It was with white-hot rage. Had Malfoy _told _Blaise what had happened the night before? Were they laughing at her? Why, the tattling bastard, Hermione thought furiously. She'd show him not to laugh at her! She ground her teeth together and handed Snape her homework without even looking at him.

Snape stopped in front of her, one slicked black eyebrow raising. "Miss Granger, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

She looked up at him, startled that he had spoken to her. "No, Professor," she said coolly. "Nothing."

Snape looked viciously amused, and then he moved on. Harry leaned over to Hermione and said quickly, "What the hell's the matter with you, Hermione? I could hear you grinding your teeth all the way over here."

She looked at him, her eyes blazing with righteous fury. "I am going to _kill _Draco Malfoy," she said viciously.

Harry blinked, then scowled. "Dammit, Hermione, snap out of it. You're letting him get to you, and you're letting stuff slip. We heard about what happened in Divination."

Hermione blinked. "You heard?"

Ron nodded, looking solemn. "Yeah, we heard."

"Who told you?" Hermione asked slowly, feeling dread congeal in the pit of her stomach.

Ron sighed. "Everybody's heard by now, Hermione. It's the talk of the school."

Hermione felt bile rise in her throat. Not only did she have to be humiliated in front of Malfoy, but now the whole school knew! Focus, she told herself even as her hands knotted in her lap. Focus, Hermione. It's not _that _big of a deal. It's just one homework assignment. Homework. Not a life-threatening disease. It will be fine. Who cares what they think? But the fury in her eyes banked and was replaced by misery.

Sympathy darkened Harry's eyes and he squeezed her hands beneath the table as Snape began to talk. Hermione listened intently, trying to force everything else out of her mind but Potions. When he released class, she gathered up her books, feeling unbelievably weary. Not physically, but mentally. In a few short hours, her whole world had been turned upside down. For all her years at Hogwarts, she had been comfortable in the knowledge that she and Malfoy were enemies. That was a given and hadn't changed over the years. She still felt the anger burning, but that ice cold hate was melting very slowly. She looked at him in a different light, and she wasn't sure how to deal with the feelings that he had evoked in her. She knew that she couldn't talk to Harry or Ron about it--they'd go berserk. And she didn't want to talk to Ginny yet, because her feelings were still too new and nebulous to try to explain to her intuitive friend. 

Aside from her Draco dilemma, she had marred her pristine academic record. She had always known that she was one of the most studious and smartest people at Hogwarts. But with one little slip-up, her confidence in herself had been shaken. All of her life, she had been judged by her intellectual ability, and now that she had slipped up, she wasn't sure how to judge herself anymore. Her mind flew back to the night before when she had been up against a tree with Malfoy pressed against her. He hadn't been thinking of her intellectual abilities right then. He had wanted her, she was sure of it. Wanted her in a way that had nothing to do with that he was a pureblood and she was Muggle-born, or that she was Harry Potter's friend, or that she was the smartest girl in school. He had wanted _her, _and it still curled her stomach in a little ribbon of pleasure to think of it.

No, she thought fiercely. He's _Malfoy! _He hates me, and I hate him. End of story. But the kernel of memory still remained lodged in her mind, something she couldn't banish as easily.

Abruptly she realized that Ron was waving his hands in front of her face. "Earth to Hermione," he said loudly. "Hermione, you in there?"

She blinked at him. "Why on earth are you waving your arms about like that, Ron? People will think you're having a seizure."

Ron rolled his eyes dramatically. "I was _trying _to get your attention. You've just been standing there and staring straight ahead."

"Sorry," she apologized. "I was just thinking."

Ron muttered something under his breath. "C'mon, girl. I think you need to eat something."

She hesitated. She didn't really have any appetite, but she didn't want to worry the boys more than they already were. She knew that they were worried about her behavior lately, and she figured if she nibbled some food then they would feel a little better and think that they had helped her some. So she let them lead her into the Great Hall. Once they were there, she sipped on her pumpkin juice as the boys dug into their food as if they hadn't eaten for days.

Finally Harry put down his fork and looked at her, determination in his eyes. She nearly winced. Uh oh. He was going to ask for answers, she thought miserably. And I can't tell him.

Sure enough, Harry said, "Hermione, I want to know what's wrong with you. You haven't been eating for the past two days, you're sleeping at odd hours, you're losing your temper, and you've forgotten your homework, something I thought I would never live to see. Tell us what's wrong."

Hermione sighed deeply, the headache bouncing around gleefully in her brain. "I'm sorry I've been acting so odd, guys. I'm just--I don't know. I've been thinking a lot in the past two days."

"About what?" Ron asked through a mouthful of sweet potatoes.

She gave him a withering look, and he obediently swallowed. "About things that I took for granted," Hermione admitted. "I feel like everything's turned upside down. Nothing was the way that it was before."

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance at her cryptic statement. "I don't understand what you're talking about, Hermione," Harry said slowly. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Oh, Harry, I don't know. I'm just so confused." Her lip trembled unconsciously, and Harry looked panicked. Of all things, he couldn't stand female tears. He reached out and clutched her hand that was lying limply on the table top.

"There there," he said, glancing at Ron to help him out. Ron looked just as clueless as Harry did. "It will be ok, Hermione. Do you want me to see where Ginny is? Maybe I can find Ginny." He looked wildly around the Great Hall, wanting nothing more than to escape her tears.

Hermione glared at him and snatched her hand away. Tears sheened her eyes, making them look even larger than normal, but none fell. "No I don't want you to find Ginny, Harry," she said furiously. "I'm quite all right, thank you. If you'll excuse me."

Then she rose from the table and stomped out of the Great Hall. Moments later, she crashed into a tall form. She would have fallen back onto the hard floor, but strong hands caught her around her arms and held her steady. Startled, she looked up and found herself staring into Draco's gray eyes.

She gulped, her eyes caught by his. She couldn't bring herself to pull her eyes away. "What are you doing, Granger?" he asked her, but his voice didn't have the cutting edge that she was so used to.

A little floored by the almost polite tone he had used with her, she stammered, "I was--I was going to feed Crookshanks."

His mouth curled on one side. Fascinated, she watched the movement and felt her stomach quiver with a little tickle of pleasure. "That mangy cat you sent to my room?" he murmured.

She blinked up at him, realizing that she had been staring at his mouth. "Yes," she whispered. His eyes went hot, and with a jolt she realized that he had been staring at _her _mouth. He felt her tremble beneath his hands, and his eyes blazed. He leaned closer, but then they heard voices coming down the hall.

He cursed furiously and released her. She swayed for a moment once deprived of his support, then steadied herself. For the first time, she realized that he had moved them into a darkened corner, and that he was alone. She stared up at him, caught by the masculine beauty of his face. He glanced down the hallway and saw his crowd walking towards the Great Hall, and cursed beneath his breath again. "Dammit, Granger." He shot her another hot look. "This isn't over. Meet me at the willow again tonight."

She opened her mouth to tell him absolutely not, and instead heard herself say, "What time?"

"The same time," he snapped, annoyance still darkening his gray eyes to slate. Then he strode away to join his friends. When Hermione saw Pansy slide her hungry little hands over Draco's chest, she gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to yank out handfuls of Pansy's hair. Once the Slytherin group was gone, she emerged from the shadows. She stalked back to her rooms, muttering about damned Slytherins who thought they could have any woman they wanted.

Once she was gone, a lone figure stepped out of a hidden corner and smiled, amusement and satisfaction in his eyes.

****

Reviewers: 

Auden~ I don't know why I have so few reviews! *is very sad* Maybe the summary sucks, so nobody wants to read it? *sighs* If anybody has any tips on getting reviewers, I'd much appreciate them! And thank you for saying that it's so good. *grins*

****

Lula~ I'm glad you liked the 4th chapter so much! I figured that it was pretty much just fluff, cause nothing much really happens in it. But I'm glad you liked it anyway! ^_^

****

Cassie32~ Thanks for reviewing! And you're a lucky, lucky gal. *winks* I think we _all _wish we had men like Draco. YUM. hehe.

Thank you all so much for reviewing! Keep doin' so, to let me know if the story falls into the pit of terrible fanfic. *laughs*


	6. Feel the Love

Disclaimer: Who's that lady that owns it all again? *ponders* Hmm...I _think _that her name's J.K. Rowling. Is that it? Yup, that's it. *nods firmly* J.K. Rowling owns it all. ^_^

A/N: I _know _people are reading, but I'm still low on reviewers! Not that the reviewers I have aren't spectacular, because they most certainly are! *showers cookies upon my loyal reviewers* But for all those who read and don't review--_please _review. It makes my day--I promise it does. *puppy dog eyes*

The rest of the day Hermione was jumpy. She kept well away from Ron and Harry, knowing they would just wonder what was wrong with her _now_. She had planned what she was going to say to Draco all day. She'd tell him that he was a rat bastard for telling his friends about what had happened last night, then trying to cuddle up with her today. Then she'd slap him and storm off, and this whole dilemma with Draco would be over.

Confident in what she was going to say, Hermione slipped out of her bed once midnight had passed over the land. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, knowing that it would be cool outside. Then she crept downstairs into the common room and came face to face with Ginny, who was lounging leisurely on a couch, swinging one foot absently and reading a book.

Ginny looked up when Hermione froze in the doorway. With a predatory smile, Ginny closed her book. "Well well, Miss Granger. And where would we be going so late at night?" Ginny asked with a devilish smile.

Hermione glared at Ginny, hoping to make her back down. "None of your business," she said, her nose in the air.

Ginny ignored that act, knowing that Hermione would like nothing better than for Ginny to leave her alone and just go to bed. "Is that so?" Ginny asked complacently. "You wouldn't be going to meet a certain Slytherin, would you, Mione?" Her eyes twinkled as Hermione squirmed.

"Of course not," Hermione muttered. "Where'd you hear a ridiculous notion like that?" She stared resolutely up at the ceiling, refusing to look at Ginny and let the other girl see the lie in her eyes.

Ginny smiled to herself. Oh, it was lovely to see Hermione squirm. It was so rare that Hermione was discomfited that it was a pleasure to watch her. "Well," Ginny said, tapping one finger against her lower lip, "I might have seen a certain girl snuggling up with a certain Slytherin boy today in the hallways outside the Great Hall."

Hermione's head snapped down and she glared at Ginny. "You were _spying _on me?" she asked, outraged.

Ginny smiled wryly. "No, I wasn't. I was going in to eat lunch and to talk to Harry when I saw Draco pull you into a corner. I started to walk over to make sure that he wasn't hassling you, and I saw your little. . .tete a tete."

Hermione growled at Ginny's choice of words. "We did _not _have a 'tete a tete'," she muttered.

Ginny arched one eyebrow. "Oh really? And what would you call it?"

Hermione squirmed again, and Ginny watched in delight. "A meeting," Hermione muttered. "Just. . .a meeting was all."

"I haven't seen many meetings like that one," Ginny said archly. "You both nearly starched my clothes with the heat rising off you. I'm surprised there aren't scorch marks on the floor."

Hermione scowled furiously at Ginny. "Why are you up?" she asked in a disgruntled voice. "Are you going to tell me not to go meet him?"

Ginny settled back against the pillows on the couch with a cat that caught the canary smile. "Not at all," she said, amusement brightening her eyes. "In fact, don't let me keep you."

Hermione narrowed her own eyes. "What's the catch?" she asked suspiciously.

Ginny smiled gently and rose. She caught up one of Hermione's hands and squeezed gently. "There's no catch, Hermione. I saw what you looked like when you were with Draco today. You _felt _something--and you had the same look on your face that I do when I look at Harry."

Hermione sputtered. "Why--Gin, that's ridiculous! You and Harry are--well, you're--"

Ginny smiled. "You can go ahead and say it, Hermione. We're in love. It's not a crime," she said gently. "And if you feel for Draco even a fraction of what I feel for Harry, then I want you to go out and meet Draco tonight." Ginny squeezed Hermione's hands. "Because even if it is with Draco, Hermione, I want you to feel that."

Hermione's eyes stung with tears and she impulsively hugged Ginny tight. "No wonder you're my best friend," she sniffled, and Ginny laughed.

"I know," she said modestly. "It's because I'm perfect, isn't it?" She preened, then laughed at herself. Then she gave Hermione a little push. "Go on. Get out of here. You'll be late."

Hermione smiled brilliantly at Ginny and hugged her swiftly and then dashed out of the room. For one moment, it felt like she was sneaking off to a clandestine meeting with her lover, where he would hold her and kiss her and tell her that he adored her. It was almost too easy to forget that she was going to meet Draco so she could tell him that he was a miserable git like she had always known he was and then leave him to stew in his own juices.

Once Hermione was gone, Ginny settled back down on the couch, sighing with pleasure. Although Hermione was a year older than she was, at the moment Ginny felt like an older sister, and she liked the feeling. She liked seeing Hermione all flushed with pleasure and happy. Merlin, Ginny so rarely saw Hermione truly happy, and she loved to see it. If Draco could make Hermione happy, then Ginny would put aside whatever differences she had with him, and embrace him in thanks.

Smiling to herself, she picked up her book again and opened it. A few minutes later, Harry came stumbling down the stairs, knuckling at his eyes. He peered blearily at her. "Gin? What are you doing up so late?"

Ginny smiled serenely at him, putting her book down again. In the darkness of the common room, the light from the warm fire flickered over her features. Her long, silky red hair tumbled over one shoulder, and the firelight brought out the strength in her face and the delicacy of her bones. She looked like a serene Madonna, and even through his sleep clouded mind, Harry caught his breath at her beauty. Ginny smiled and held out one hand to him. "C'mere, baby. Come sit with me for a while." Obediently, he came to her and laid down on the couch and put his head in her lap.

She sifted her fingers through his hair in a steady, soothing rhythm and felt him start to drift back to sleep. Feeling supremely content, Ginny started to softly hum to herself, and felt Harry sleepily press a kiss to her abdomen. "Love you," he murmured, already half asleep.

She smiled, her eyes shining with tears of joy that she wouldn't shed. "I love you too," she whispered, but he was already asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aww...I got all sniffly writing the Ginny/Harry scene. *sniffles*

****

Reviewers: 

Shaney of Goldenlake~ Thank you! I'm glad you like it. ^_^

****

Auden~ Here's the chapter you were waitin' on! Well...I mean...here's the next one. *laughs* I hope you like this chapter as much as the others. ^_^


	7. Confusion in the Feelings Aisle

Disclaimer: Yes, we KNOW already that it's J.K. Rowlings's. Let's not belabor the point.

A/N: I didn't even try to use the British terminology regarding 'kissing'/'snogging', because I have no clue as to what the correct context would be for each one. So I apologize for that, and I hope you'll bear with me in my Americanized-ness. ^_^

Hermione sneaked outside without encountering anyone, much to her relief. Wouldn't that just make her day if someone caught her outside her dormitory at night? she thought sourly. As if forgetting her homework wasn't enough for one day. Just the thought made her roll her eyes and quicken her pace. Once she neared the willow, her heart started to beat anxiously, quickening within her chest. She could see Draco's shadowy form through the screen of branches, and her stomach gave a funny little flip. She started lecturing herself about what she was going to say as she stepped through the branches, and then she stopped and stared.

Draco's hair was mussed from running his hands through it numerous times. It was no longer slicked back. Instead of his usual robes, he wore a shirt that was opened at the collar enough for her to see a silver chain bearing a small talisman of a dragon on it. She swallowed nervously, anxiety nearly overwhelming her. Then she firmly shook herself. It was Malfoy, and she had no reason to be nervous of the miserable git. That thought was enough to straighten her spine.

Malfoy turned as if he had heard her, and then he stopped to look at her for a moment. Then he snapped, "Took you long enough."

Hermione bristled. Why on earth had she thought that she felt anything other than disgust for Malfoy? "What goes around comes around, Malfoy," she said sweetly. "You kept me waiting last night."

"Yes well," he muttered. He glanced at her and started to pace again. Startled, she belatedly realized that there was something bothering him. She bit her tongue before she asked him what was wrong. No, she said sternly. Don't ask. Don't ask. But miserably she heard herself ask him, "What's wrong, Draco?"

He gave her a sharp look. "What do you care?" he muttered.

Affronted, Hermione drew herself up and opened her mouth to give him a sound tongue lashing. But before she could, he raked his hand through his hair again and glanced at her impatiently. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm just--thinking about something."

Hermione stood rooted to the spot. Not once in all the time that she had been acquainted with him had Malfoy ever apologized to someone, least of all her. They stood in silence for a few more tension-filled minutes before Malfoy blurted out, "I don't know what's wrong with me. Why am I feeling this way?"

Hermione took an involuntary step forward. "What way?"

He shot her an angry glare. "Like. . .like that I like you. I don't _like _mudbloods, Granger. I'm a Malfoy."

The pleasure of hearing him say that he liked her was momentarily overshadowed by his insult. She took another furious step forward. "So I'm not _worthy _of being liked by the Slytherin Stud just because I'm Muggle-born?"

Draco glared at her. "No," he said shortly.

Hermione's eyes opened wide with outrage. "Why you miserable, prejudiced _git!"_ She lunged at him, prepared to strangle him.

He turned fluidly and caught her as they tumbled to the ground. She got in one good swing that bounced off his cheekbone, causing him to swear, and then he was pinning her to the ground as she twisted and struggled. She glared virulently up at him and spat curses at him as her body bucked furiously. "Let me _go, _Malfoy, or I swear by Merlin I'll---"

"Now now, Granger, don't go threatening me again," he chided. "Especially since you're not in a position to do anything about it." He smirked down at her, which caused her to writhe again to try to get free.

Finally she relented, lying on the ground, glaring up at him. But despite that her body was tired, her anger wasn't. She continued to rant at him. "How I could _ever _have thought that I liked a slimy bastard like you is beyond me!" she said furiously, eyes flashing. "You are the most insufferable, proud, _evil_---"

Draco sat through her insults for another minute then decided enough was enough. He swooped down and captured her lips with his, silencing her words. She jerked once, as if he had slapped her, and then she all but melted against him. They lay there for a moment, nothing touching but their mouths, until Draco skimmed his fingertips very gently over Hermione's cheek, causing her to shiver.

He drew away, and his mouth curled in a very small smile. "You talk too much, Granger," he murmured. Then he just took his time to look his fill at her. Her hair was tousled from her struggles, and framed her delicate heart-shaped face. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her mouth looked bee-stung. She was utterly delectable, and for the moment she was all his. That thought made his eyebrows lower, and he glared at her. She blinked, startled at his sudden change of mood. He gave her a little shake that made her mouth drop open in shock, then she started to glare at him. "As long as you're kissing me, you're not to be kissing anybody else, you hear me, Granger? What's mine stays mine."

Hermione gasped in outrage as she scrambled to her feet. "Why you _beast_! I'm not yours!"

"And what was that just a minute ago? Were you looking for cavities in my mouth with your tongue?"

Hermione flushed and retorted, "I didn't see you complaining, Malfoy. In fact, you were doing some cavity searching yourself!"

"That as it may be, I won't have you going behind my back with Potter and the Weasel, or anybody else for that matter."

Hermione glared furiously at him. "For your information, Harry is with Ginny, and I would never break them up. Two, I'm not attracted to Ron. And three, it's none of your damned business _who _I kiss!"

His hands wrapped around her upper arms and dragged her against him. He put his face close to hers, so that she could feel his breath on her lips. "You just made it my business," he said roughly.

Hermione blinked, her eyes opened wide. Then she pushed him back and stabbed her index finger at his chest. "Fine then! If I'm to be confined to your miserable attentions--" his eyes flared at that, "then you're to be confined to mine! I won't have Pansy Parkinson running her hands all over you like she owns you!"

"I didn't ask her to do that," Draco muttered.

Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Well you'd better stop it."

Draco smiled sardonically. "And what are you going to do if I don't, Granger? Will you start a cat fight over me?" He smiled, obviously pleased with the idea.

Hermione smiled sweetly and traced a path down his throat and over his chest. She felt his heart hammer at her touch, and she smiled. "Not at all, Draco," she crooned. "I'll take it out of _your _hide."

He gulped at the look in her eyes and didn't have one doubt that she'd do it. "Fine," he snapped. "But if I see you cuddling up with Pothead or the Weasel, then I'll take it out of _your _hide."

Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly. "Oh really? And how will you do that? Have you fallen to hitting women now, Malfoy?"

His eyes flashed with fury, and he yanked her close. She could feel the furious insult rising off him in waves. "I have never hit a woman in my life, Granger, and I don't intend to start with you," he snarled.

"Well that's a relief," Hermione snapped, covering her surprise with prickliness. "So if you don't intend to hit me, Malfoy, how are you planning to 'keep me in line'?" Sarcasm nearly dripped from her words.

He smiled at her. It was a smile that she instantly distrusted. "Why, darling, I'll take it out of _their _hides. And everybody knows how keen you are on their safety. That's punishment enough."

Hermione glowered at him and muttered under her breath, "Insufferable beast."

He smiled at her cynically. "But darling, you like me that way."

She snarled half-heartedly, then thought of something else. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Am I going to have to be labeled as your girlfriend?" she demanded.

He shot her a repugnant look. "Hell no. I don't want everybody knowing that I'm making out with some. . .Gryffindor." He said the name of her House with such disdain that it made Hermione bristle.

She sniffed. "As if I want people knowing that my lips have touched those of a _Slytherin."_ She infused her words with the same disdain that he had, and saw him press his lips together in annoyance. She smirked, pleased that she had turned the tables on him.

"Fine then," he snapped. "We just won't tell anyone. It'll be our. . .secret." He tasted the word and then smiled evilly at her. Seeing the implications in his eyes, she smacked him on the shoulder, half expecting him to get angry with her. Instead he just smiled again, his mouth in that damnable smirk that she so hated, but his eyes were filled with genuine amusement. Those eyes gave her hope that he wasn't the miserable git that she had always thought of him as. Hope that she might find something in Draco Malfoy that she had always wanted.

She held her head high. "Fine then," she said coolly. "If we've discussed this enough, I'm going back to bed."

He leered at her. "Got any room for me?"

"No," she said with great dignity, starting to walk away. His fingers slid around her wrist like a bracelet and brought her back up against his chest.

"I think you forgot something, Granger," he said with a devilish smile.

She eyed him warily. "What?"

His head lowered and tasted her lips, and she sagged. Only the iron band of his arm around her back kept her upright as he ravished her lips. When he raised his head, his eyes were just as heavy-lidded as hers, and his breathing was coming harder. No matter what squabbles they had, she surrendered to him each and every time that he touched her. It amazed him. It aroused him.

She blinked up at him as if she were coming out of a dream. Unaccountably, Draco felt a surge of tenderness. She looked like a lost baby owl, with those big eyes staring up at him in surprise. He lowered his head again, but this time the kiss was gentle. A caress, not a siege. When he released her again, she laid her head against his chest for a long moment, and he felt something inside him shift and stretch. Almost like a barrier had been shifted a little. Then she looked up at him and pressed a kiss to the base of his throat. She looked up at him with something almost resembling regret darkening her lovely chocolate brown eyes. "I have to go," she said softly. "We don't want to be caught."

"Yes of course," he murmured. She stepped away and then turned and walked swiftly away and into the school. Draco watched her go with something uncomfortably like longing in his chest. Then he picked up his broom that he had laid aside and flew swiftly up to his window and climbed inside. He stripped down and crawled beneath his cold sheets. He closed his eyes to sleep, but all he could think about was the feel of her beneath his hands. When he finally did fall asleep, his dreams were haunted by her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Reviewers:

kole17~ Thanks a lot! I try to make it detailed enough to where it's interesting, but not get bogged down in it. *smiles wryly* Hopefully I succeed fairly well. Thanks for reviewing!

****

Lula~ As ever. . .*tips cap to loyal reviewer* Thanks a bunch, doll!


	8. The Vow

Disclaimer: Everybody knows the drill by now. J.K. Rowling. Everything. Hers. Not mine. Capish?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Several weeks went by with their charade intact. Ginny was aware of their deception, and her eyes lit with unholy amusement every time Draco's eyes slid sideways to touch on Hermione, or vice versa. Harry and Ron didn't have an inkling of what was going on, but they were desperately relieved that Hermione was acting normally again. The only thing that did puzzle them was that Draco completely avoided all four of them. Normally if he passed Harry in the halls he would say something nasty. Now he simply passed by with a threatening glare.

They were at breakfast one day when Harry said abruptly, "I want to know what's up with Malfoy. It makes me nervous that he's acting so differently."

Hermione blinked at him. "You know that saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth, Harry?"

He glanced at her. "Yeah," he said slowly.

She rolled her eyes. "Well you're halfway down its throat. Lighten up and just be happy that he's laying off."

"But it's so unlike him," Harry insisted. "I'm not too sure that he hasn't got something up his sleeve."

"Maybe he's gotten himself a girl," Ginny said offhandedly. "Maybe he's mellowed now that he's on a leash."

Hermione shot Ginny a panicked look behind Harry's back, and Ginny just grinned at her. Harry turned to look at Ginny with a raised eyebrow. "Malfoy on a leash? I wish I'd live to see the day. No, he's been messing around with Pansy for years now, and she hasn't mellowed him. It has to be something different." Then he blinked down at her. "Did you just say that he's on a leash? Meaning that he's on a leash because he has a woman?"

Ginny looked up at him innocently and sipped at her pumpkin juice. "Did I?"

"I think you did," he said slowly, then he narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not on a leash," he said firmly, as if he were trying to convince himself.

Ginny smiled into her cup and then patted Harry's arm gently. "Of course not, my love."

Relieved, Harry turned and started talking to Ron about Quidditch. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and shot Ginny a glare for scaring her. Ginny just grinned wickedly. Grumbling to herself about nosy best friends, Hermione dug into her breakfast with a new fervor.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That night, Hermione and Draco had planned to meet in the Room of Requirement. Hermione threw on an oversized sweatshirt and some jeans and left her hair to hang down her back. Then she crept out of the Gryffindor tower and toward the Room of Requirement. When she emerged from behind the Fat Lady's portrait, she thought she heard a quick shoe scuff and she looked around quickly, feeling her heart hammer with a quick burst of fear. What if she were caught outside at night? That'd be points from Gryffindor. When she didn't hear anything else or see anyone, she moved down the hallway, still feeling uneasy.

She quickened her pace, wanting to reach Draco as soon as possible. Even knowing that she was more than capable of protecting herself from most things, she still wanted Draco's strength beside her and wanted the comfort of his protection. On instinct, she glanced behind her and saw a shadow flit from one corner to another. Her heart slammed into her throat. It's a ghost, she chanted to herself. Just one of the ghosts. They can't hurt me.

She walked faster and faster until she was flat out running, not even caring who heard her. Now she heard the footsteps behind her, matching pace with hers. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs, burning in her throat with every breath she took. Her mind was wild, wondering what she should do. Should she turn and fight, or try to reach the Room of Requirement where Draco was waiting for her?

She dashed around a corner and glanced behind her. Her head felt light when she saw that the person was definitely not a ghost. Instead it was definitely a man, covered completely by a black cloak. Her hand shot into her coat pocket and withdrew her wand and clutched it tightly. She heard a soft whisper float down the hallway to her ears, and she pushed her legs harder. The bastard was laughing at her. Laughing at her attempts to escape.

She saw the portrait that hid the Room of Requirement down the hallway. Her eyes filled with tears of relief. She was so close! So close, and then Draco would be there. She shot a "_Stupefy_!" over her shoulder, hoping so slow down her pursuer, but she heard his steady footsteps continue without missing a beat. Then something large slammed into her back, sending her sprawling to the floor. Her wand skittered away into a corner, far out of her reach. She kicked and bit, and heard a man's soft curse as her teeth sank into flesh. He slapped her, making her head ring and momentarily stunning her.

She swung a punch and felt it connect, but he seemed unfazed by her attempts to escape. He ruthlessly pinned her to the cold stone floor, and she felt her panic mount as her body started to get tired, despite her rush of adrenaline. Then long, icy fingers closed around her throat and squeezed once, letting her feel the power in his hands. Her wide, terrified eyes stared up into the darkness of the hood as she twisted frantically beneath his greater weight. His fingers pressed in again, and she felt it start to crush her windpipe. She wheezed and gasped desperately for air, her hands clutching at his wrists, trying to pull his hands away from her throat long enough for her to breathe.

Then she heard running footsteps and a shouted, "_Stupefy_!" Her attacker looked up, and his hands loosened from her throat. Then he lunged to his feet and dashed down the hallway. Draco rushed up. "Hey, are you ok?" he asked anxiously, then saw that it was Hermione, who was still writhing on the floor, desperately trying to breathe.

His face changed from concern to consuming rage. "Fuck," he snarled. "That son of a _bitch_." He looked up and started down the hallway to find her attacker and kill him. He knew that if he had found the bastard who had been about to kill her, he would have used an Unforgivable and not regretted it for one second. He hesitated, and then he heard the terrible, gasping sounds as Hermione tried to breathe through her crushed throat. He winced, knowing that he'd hear those sounds in his nightmares.

Knowing that he wouldn't find her attacker, he spun on his heel and rushed back to her and crouched at her side. His hands hovered over her, seeing the damage that had been done. Already bruises and scratches were rising on her pristine white throat, and there was a bruise on her cheekbone. Her sweater was ripped at one shoulder, and her nails were ripped and bleeding from her struggles. He felt rage sweep over him, and tears sting his eyes. Merlin, he could have lost her so easily. If he hadn't come along. . .He shoved those thoughts away and picked her up to cradle her in his lap.

"Easy, baby, easy," he crooned. "C'mon, baby. Breathe for me. Breathe for us." His chest felt so tight that he wasn't sure that it wasn't he who couldn't find air. He felt the terrible wracking of Hermione's body as she tried to suck air into her deprived lungs, and felt her whole body shuddering with the effort.

He swallowed down his tears. Merlin, when had she started to mean so much to him? At first he had just cared about her because he wanted her. Now it was more than that, and he wasn't sure when it had happened. All at once, the thought of losing her made him want to kill. He would never be able to handle losing her. He picked her up gently in his arms and nearly dashed to the Infirmary, shouting for Madam Pomfrey. She emerged from her quarters that were connected to the Infirmary, still dressed in a huge purple nightgown that hung to her feet.

"Young man, there are people resting in here," she scolded. "Please don't be so loud!"

Draco's breath was heaving, and his eyes were wild. Hermione was still having difficulty breathing, and it scared him to death. "She was attacked," he said breathlessly. "Help her. She can't breathe. She can't breathe!"

Madam Pomfrey gasped softly and then hurried forward. "Come here. Lay here down here." She led Draco swiftly to a bed with starched white linens. Feeling reluctant to let her leave the safety of his arms, Draco obediently laid her on the bed. Madam Pomfrey made a swift inspection of Hermione and then rushed over to a small medical kit that was lying on a surgical steel cart. She withdrew something that looked like a Muggle inhaler and pressed it to Hermione's lips. "Suck in air, dear," she said, her eyes worried. Hermione tried, and immediately she started to breathe easier. She sucked eagerly on the device until Pomfrey drew it away, noticing that Hermione was breathing almost normally, although there was a rattle in her throat from the abuse her windpipe had taken.

Blindly, Hermione groped for Draco's hand, and he gripped her hand tightly, feeling his fingers tremble. He had never thought to see Hermione so weak. She was his equal in everything--she would stand up to him in an argument, love him out of his moods, and tell him he was being an ass when he was. He needed her in his life, and he hadn't realized how much until now. He had no idea how she had become so vitally important to him in such a short amount of time, but there it was.

If Madam Pomfrey saw Hermione holding desperately to Draco's hand, she didn't mention it. She made a thorough inspection of Hermione, then sat back on her heels thoughtfully. "You're extremely lucky, Miss Granger," she said with a relieved sigh. "Except for your throat and your bruised cheek, you're mostly all right. Nothing that you need to stay in the Infirmary for. I think you just need to go back to your dormitory and sleep some. That will help the most." She gave Draco a stern look. "I assume that I can trust you to make sure she gets there safely?"

"Absolutely," Draco said, his eyes still on Hermione's face.

Madam Pomfrey nodded briskly. "Good. Miss Granger, I would expect to be summoned to the headmaster's office at some point tomorrow. He will want to know the details of what happened tonight."

Hermione nodded and winced when it hurt her throat. Draco looked up at Madam Pomfrey and drew her slightly away from Hermione's bed so she couldn't hear them. "She's really ok?" he asked in a low voice.

Madam Pomfrey nodded somberly. "She's beat up, there's no doubt of that. But there's nothing more I can do right now for her except to tell her to sleep."

Draco let out a long breath. "Thanks," he muttered, then went back over to Hermione. "C'mon, baby," he said gently. "You need to sleep."

Hermione nodded, her cheeks as white as paper except for the bruise that discolored most of her right cheek. Draco picked her up and carried her down the hallway. Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, wanting nothing more than to rest. She was so tired, and she just wanted to cry. She had been so scared, so sure that he was going to kill her. The remembered terror made her arms clutch convulsively at Draco, and he looked down at her with eyes like hardened chips of flint. I _will_ find out who did this to her, he thought savagely. And when I do---he didn't even finish the thought in his own mind.

He muttered a password, and in Hermione's fogged brain, she wondered absently how he knew the password for Gryffindor's common room. He carried her upstairs, and laid her gently on a bed. She looked around and noticed that it was a single room. The furnishings were sparse, but all of them were elegant. And undeniably masculine. She looked up at him, confusion drawing her brows together.

"Where are we?" she rasped.

He chucked his shoes, and then removed hers more gently. "My room, love. I didn't want to let you out of my sight." He slid into the bed beside her and looped one arm around her to draw her protectively close.

She hesitated. "Draco, I don't want to get in trouble."

"You won't," he soothed. "I'll take you back to your room just before dawn. But I don't want to leave you alone right now, honey. You scared me," he admitted in a bleak voice.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I was so scared," she admitted, burying her face against his shoulder. "All I could think about was that if I just got a little farther, then you'd be there to save me. To protect me and stand beside me."

Draco ground his teeth together. Dammit. He should have known that she was in danger. He should have protected her, like she thought that he would. Instead she had been hurt, almost killed. He knew that he wouldn't easily forgive himself for that. His arms tightened around her when he felt her body shudder with sobs that tore at her already abused throat.

He stroked back her long hair and whispered soothingly to her until her body dropped into a restless sleep. But even after she fell asleep, Draco remained wide awake, his hands stroking her hair and watching the room alertly. In those long hours before dawn, he made a vow to himself. He had failed to protect her tonight, but by Merlin, he wouldn't fail again.

****

Reviewers:

I am stunned and ecstatic over my reviews. Thank you all _so _much. It really means a lot that you like my story! I just did a couple shoutouts because there was something in particular I wanted to respond to. But to all the other reviewers that I _didn't _respond to, you still have much love from me. *hugs*

****

KayLyynKie~ Wow! I'm really glad you liked it. Don't cry in the library! hehe. Just out of my own rabid curiosity, which part was tearful? I got a little choked up with the Harry and Ginny scene, but that's cause I'm just a big watering pot. *smiles wryly*

Jared~ Hermione is never actually bathing in the moonlight--she's just standing at the shore of the lake with the moonlight spilling over her. She's still clothed and everything. ^_^ hehe. Oh, and I don't know why I put her in Divination. Just for kicks, I suppose. I wasn't really thinking about a _particular _class when I was writing the chapter, any class would have done just as well for her to forget her homework in. So--no real reason that she's in Divination. ^_^ And yes, I probably did repeat 'single-minded intensity' more than once. I tend to do that with some phrases, so you'll have to bear with me. *smiles*


	9. Trek to the Tower

Disclaimer: Who does it all belong to? *cups hand to ear*

Audience: J.K. Rowling!

Author: *claps proudly* Quite right!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco woke when his alarm shrilled wildly. Groggily, he smacked his hand down on it to silence it, wondering why the hell he had set it to wake him up before the sun was even rising. He felt the warm weight of Hermione in his arms, and abruptly the events of the night before rushed back to him. His expression tightened and went cold. He looked down at Hermione, and his chest tightened.

She was lying on her stomach, her hair in a wild disarray. He marveled at the length of her lashes as they lay on her cheeks and the pale pink of her lips. Then he shook himself. Listen to yourself, man, he thought sardonically. How far have you sunk? Just because you're in love with her doesn't mean you have to be a sap like Pothead. But despite his deprecatory thoughts, his hands were gentle as they turned her onto her back and shook her gently.

She blinked slowly, then focused on him. "Draco?" she asked sleepily, yawning widely.

"Yeah, it's me. C'mon, honey, we've got to get you back to your bed."

She made a little moue with her lips that he found unbelievably cute. "Don't wanna. Here's good." She snuggled back into the pillow, and Draco allowed himself a moment to admire her lying in his bed, as he had dreamed about for so many nights. Then he sighed and shook her again. "No, baby. You've got to go back to the Gryffindor tower."

She pouted, her head still stubbornly shoved against the pillow. "Don't wanna." Her voice was as petulant as a five year old's. Draco sighed and abruptly came to the realization that his darling Hermione was not at her best when she first woke up.

Leaving her to be for the moment, Draco unwound himself from their tangled blankets and pulled on some clothes. Then he went over to Hermione's side of the bed and bodily hefted her into his arms. She blinked her eyes and then glared up at him. "Why the hell are you waking me up, Draco?" she grumped.

Ah, she's waking up, Draco thought dryly. Her sentences were coherent now, but not any more complimentary.

"You're going back to your own bed," he said patiently. Inwardly he wondered where this sudden well of patience had come from. Usually he would have made some sarcastic comment, but he found that he couldn't when he saw her snuggling up against his chest as if it were the only place that she wanted to be.

Her vision cleared slightly and she frowned up at him. "I'm not in my bed?"

"No," he said slowly. "You were in mine." He peered around the corner of the Slytherin common room and saw the coast was clear, then pushed his way out of the portrait and into the corridors. In the early morning before the sun rose, the world was the coldest. He could feel the cold of the old stone floors even through his shoes, and he shivered at the chill in the air. Drafty old castle, he thought grumpily. He felt Hermione shiver in his arms, and wrapped her a little closer. When she started to shiver more, he stopped and sat her down on the floor.

She yelped softly. "Merlin, that's cold!"

He shed his dark cloak and draped it around her. She felt her shivers die away, and she hugged his cloak around her for one moment. She could smell his warm scent on it, and it was comforting. Then he picked her up again. Immediately she protested. "Draco! I'm awake, I can walk now. And besides, you need your cloak. You'll freeze."

"I'm fine," he said shortly.

She glared up at him. "Well I say that you're bloody not well fine," she huffed. "I can see that you're cold. Now take your cloak!"

He actually growled at her. "Damned contrary woman," he grumbled. "Try to do something nice for her and it backfires on you."

Hermione sighed with exaggerated patience. "Draco, you're going to have to walk back to the Slytherin tower and you'll be cold."

He huffed as his long strides ate up the distance to the Gryffindor tower. "I'm getting my workout right now, Hermione. Trust me, I won't be cold."

Hermione's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Too late Draco realized his mistake and clamped his mouth shut. "And what does that mean?" she asked, her eyes glittering.

"Not a thing," Draco said quickly. "I just--I meant---"

"You meant I was _fat!" _Hermione accused, her glare making him quiver in his boots. He told himself it was the cold.

"I never meant that you were fat," he promised, but she continued to glower at him.

"You did too! You said you were getting a workout from carrying me. That means that I'm fat!"

He glared right back at her, stopping in the middle of the hall as they squared off. He still held her in his arms, but that didn't detract from their bad-tempered glowering at one another. "You're not fat, you feather-headed woman! But you're not particularly light either."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "So I'm fat," she persisted, and Draco nearly threw up his hands before he remembered that would mean that he would drop her on the stone floor. Which would _not _earn him any brownie points.

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "I never said that you were fat."

"But that's what you meant," Hermione said stubbornly. She tilted her nose in the air. "That's just _fine. _I don't care if you think I'm fat, anyway. If I'm so _heavy, _then why don't you put me down? You might break your back."

Draco prayed to any god that he had heard of for patience. He found that his newfound patience had quickly dried up beneath her pestering. Then he started walking purposefully toward Gryffindor tower again, making a mental note to never again encounter Hermione before she was fully awake. "I'm not going to put you down, and I _don't_ think you're fat."

When he saw her mouth open to argue more, he snapped, "End of discussion, Hermione."

Her eyes opened wide in outrage. "Why, you dictator!"

He moaned. Why had he ever thought that he loved this harpy? At the moment he'd gladly sling her off a cliff and wave to her on the way down. Or maybe he'd throw _himself _off a cliff, which would work just as well. That way she'd still be around to pester Potter and the Weasel. No sense in saving those two gits from her infernal nagging. The damned woman was pretty damn chipper for almost being murdered the night before, he thought sourly.

He saw the portrait of the Fat Lady up ahead and increased his pace. When he reached it, he glanced at her. "What's the password?"

She glared up at him, looking stubborn. He looked back at her, equally stubborn. Finally she muttered, "Pickled eggs."

The portrait stared from Hermione to Draco and back again. She leaned slightly forward. "What was that, dear? I didn't quite hear you."

"Pickled eggs," Hermione snapped, raising her voice. The portrait looked affronted.

"Well there's no need to shout," she said huffily, and swung open more quickly than normal, almost hitting Draco and Hermione on the way. Draco jumped out of the way, snarling under his breath about contrary witches and temperamental paintings. Then he stepped into the Gryffindor common room and glanced around quickly. When he saw no one, he glanced down at Hermione. "Which way?"

She pointed toward one spiraling staircase sullenly, and he stepped toward it and up the stairs. She directed him toward one door, which he opened softly. He saw two beds, one of which was obviously Hermione's because it was empty. However, the covers were strewn everywhere, a fact that delighted him. Hermione might be smart, but it was obvious that the little Miss Know-it-All wasn't always particularly neat. He glanced quickly at the other bed and recognized Ginny Weasley, who was fast asleep.

He laid Hermione gently on the bed and looked at her for a moment. Her mouth was still pressed into a mutinous line, and her hair was bushy and tangled. He sighed. Merlin, he was a goner when he thought that such a damnable creature as this one was the one that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He gripped her chin in strong fingers and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She tried to bite him.

Chuckling to himself, he drew away. Involuntarily, his fingertips went to her bruised cheek, and she stilled beneath the touch. Some of the fire banked in her eyes, and she looked up at him with something resembling anxiety. "Do you think I'll be ok in the dormitory, Draco?"

Draco sighed. "I'm sure you will, Hermione. No one can get through the portrait unless they have the password. Which leaves only you honor-bound Gryffindors."

"And you," she muttered, irked by his continued ragging of the Gryffindors.

He smirked at her, then his expression sobered. "I'm going to talk to Ginny for a minute. Let her know what happened."

Hermione immediately protested. "Oh Draco, don't wake her up."

He puffed out an annoyed breath. "Are you going to argue about _everything _this morning? I'm doing it because I'm worried about your safety, you addlepated twit."

"Don't call me names," Hermione muttered under her breath as she called him an uncomplimentary name.

Draco's mouth twitched, and he sighed. "Look, don't fight me on this. If I talk to Ginny, she'll talk to Pothead, and he'll look out for you when I can't."

"I can take care of myself," Hermione muttered.

"Like you did last night?" he retorted, and watched her eyes shadow with painful memories.

Sighing deeply--this relationship stuff was a pain in the ass--he sat down beside her on the bed. "Look, honey. I know that you're usually up to protecting yourself. But obviously there's something about this guy that's a little different than your average bad guy. The more people we have that are watching out for you, the better I'll feel. So just do this for me, ok?"

She studied him in silence for a moment, and he nearly squirmed beneath her steady gaze. Finally she sighed deeply and said grumpily, "Oh, all right. You win."

He grinned triumphantly, then kissed her gently, his hand stroking down her hair for a moment to reassure himself that she was whole and his. Then he released her and pulled the covers around her. "Go to sleep," he said softly. "I'll be gone in a moment."

Hermione hesitated, then reached up and pulled Draco's head down to hers for a fierce kiss. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Draco gulped. The woman was full of contradictions. One minute she was spitting fire, and the next she was a seductive temptress. He never knew what to expect from her. It was like a daily roller coaster ride. He touched his fingertips to her unbruised cheek for a moment, then rose and crept over to Ginny's bed.

He put his hand over her mouth so that she wouldn't scream. That would be all he needed, he thought grumpily. To be caught in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory. Her eyes flew open, and she lashed out with one hand, smacking him across the cheek. His soft curse seared the silence of the room. Her wild eyes stared up at him without comprehension. When she realized who he was, she relaxed, and he removed his hand from her mouth to touch his cheek gingerly.

"Dammit, woman," he muttered. "I think you left a bruise."

"Serves you right," Ginny whispered, her eyes flashing. "Sneaking up on people while they're sleeping."

"I didn't sneak. I walked. Anyway, I need you to talk to Pothead for me, Ginny."

Her eyes narrowed at the name, but she didn't comment on it. "About what?"

He glanced over at Hermione's bed and saw that she was already asleep again. His eyes softened for a moment, then he glanced back at Ginny. "Hermione was attacked last night," he said starkly.

Ginny gasped and started to jump up to check on Hermione, but he caught her arm. "No, she's asleep. You can check on her later. She was going out to meet me, and someone caught her in the corridor and beat her up some. I need Pothead to keep an eye on her, and the Weasel too. The more people watching her, the better."

"Is she badly hurt?" Ginny asked anxiously, wringing her hands.

His eyes hardened coldly. "Bruises and scratches," he said coolly. "Not badly enough that Madam Pomfrey thought she needed to stay in the Infirmary. But I want to make sure that she stays safe, Ginny. I don't want something like this to happen again."

Ginny nodded anxiously. "You're right of course. I'll talk to Harry first thing in the morning."

Draco let out a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding. "Thanks, Ginny." He slipped off her bed, and Ginny sat upright.

"I didn't hear her come in," she said with a speculative gleam in her eye.

Draco arched one eyebrow from the shadows. "She didn't until a few minutes ago. She stayed with me."

Ginny smiled slightly. "Good." She turned to look at Hermione sleeping so peacefully, and felt fear pierce her heart at the thought that someone had attacked her friend. She turned around to ask Draco if they knew who had done it, but the room was empty.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Reviewers:

Lady Jade Green~ Sorry, you won't find out who the culprit was for a bit, I'm afraid. ^_^ You'll just have to stick around to see! *wink*

****

Natyslacks- Yay! I'm not the only watering pot! hehe

****

One-Soul-Joy18~ Thank you _so _much for your review. I'm really glad that I've managed to try to get Hermione's full character, considering that's what I was going for. Now I know I've succeeded, at least in some small measure! :)

****

Ghypscee~ I'm really glad you like it. As to the way he uses endearments, I did notice how much I used them when I read back over the chapters after I posted it. I got a little carried away. So I'm going to slim the frequency of those down, but they'll still be there, because I personally am a swooner at endearments, and since I am, then in my story Hermione is too. ^_^ And besides, Draco is pretty much OC--he hates mudbloods, yet in my story he's dating one. So stretching the OC-ness just a little farther won't hurt any. ^_^

****

La Rose Noire~ Thank you for reviewing! "..._nicely in character dialogue, heaps of sexual tension and an unreformed (albeit sweet) Draco" _That's EXACTLY what I was going for. ^_^ Thank you!


	10. The Forgotten Wand

Disclaimer: Do we really have to go over this again? 

It seemed like only seconds later when Hermione was being gently shaken awake. She blinked up at the person shaking her, and determined through her fuzzy vision that it was Ginny. "G'way," she mumbled into her pillow.

"Wake _up, _Hermione! I've been trying to wake you up for five minutes now. You're going to be late if you don't."

Hermione growled under her breath and opened her eyes. Since her face was pressed into the pillow, she couldn't see much. "Fine, fine, fine," she grumbled as she swung her feet out of the bed. She heard Ginny gasp, and turned to look at her. Abruptly she remembered her wounds, and her hands fluttered at her throat for a minute as if she wanted to hide the bruises, then she dropped her hands in her lap and just stared at Ginny.

Ginny looked to be on the brink of tears, then she enfolded Hermione in a fierce hug. "I'm so glad you're all right," she sniffled.

Hermione hugged her back, her arms tightening around her friend. For a few seconds last night she hadn't been sure that she would ever hug anyone again. It felt good to be held. Which was why she had slept so well last night--Draco had held her all night. Hermione's eyes softened. Her aggravating, charming Slytherin, she thought with a sigh. She did love him so. Then she tore her thoughts away from Draco when Ginny pulled back and said firmly, "I want Harry and Ron to see you, and then we'll bundle you up so people can't see your throat."

"What's the point?" Hermione asked gloomily. "They'll be able to see my face."

Ginny tsked. "Well there's nothing we can really do about that, Hermione. You'll just have to tough it out in that direction. But no one needs to know what your throat looks like." Ginny didn't mention that Hermione's throat looked almost completely black, and there were angry scratches marring her skin. It was bad enough that Ginny felt her stomach roll at the thought of what Hermione had experienced last night as Ginny slept peacefully in her bed.

Resisting the urge to hug Hermione again, Ginny rose from Hermione's bed. She was already dressed, and she shooed Hermione from sitting on the bed as well. "Go get dressed," she ordered. "I suppose that you can just wear a scarf."

"Yes, Mother," Hermione said dryly even as she moved to obey the younger girl.

Ginny sniffed. "Well someone has to look after you," she muttered.

"I thought that was my job," Hermione mumbled. Ginny shot her a look, and Hermione shut up and pulled on her clothes. Ginny had already pulled out Hermione's red and gold Gryffindor scarf, but kept possession of it when Hermione reached for it.

"No," she said firmly. "We're going to show Ron and Harry and _then _you can have it."

"Termagant," Hermione muttered nastily, and heard Ginny's quickly muffled chuckle as they made their way down the stairs and into the common room where Ron and Harry were waiting on them. Both boys glanced up lazily when the two girls came down the stairs. Harry rose and put his arm around Ginny's waist and smiled at her. "Ready?"

He glanced up at Hermione and stilled. There was complete silence in the common room for all of three seconds before Harry and Ron exploded. There were several moments of incoherent swearing, then Harry calmed down enough to shut Ron up long enough for him to speak with Hermione. "What the hell happened?" he demanded furiously.

Hermione bit her lip. How was she going to explain that she had been outside meeting Draco? She shot Ginny a panicked look, who broke in. "She was patrolling the corridors," she said smoothly. "She's a prefect, it's what she does."

Harry looked suspiciously at Ginny for a minute, then returned his attention to Hermione. This time it was an outraged Ron, who was flushed as bright as his hair, who spoke up. "Who did it? When I find that rat bastard, I'll kill him," he vowed.

_Get in line_, Hermione thought with a mental sigh. She had no doubt that Draco had first dibs on that honor. But she kept her mouth shut on those thoughts and answered Ron's question. "I don't know. He was hooded--I couldn't see his face."

Ron glared furiously, his eyes glittering angrily. "I bet it was that damned Malfoy! I'll kill him!"

Hermione gaped soundlessly at him. Where had _that _come from? Finally she sputtered, "Ron, don't be ridiculous. It wasn't Draco."

Ron glared back at her. "How do you know? You said he was hooded. It could have been Malfoy."

"It just wasn't," Hermione snapped, her temper rising. "I would have been able to tell. I didn't know the person."

"You're sure?" Ginny asked anxiously. When Hermione shot her a disbelieving and betrayed look--she knew that Draco would never hurt Hermione--Ginny qualified quickly, "You're sure that it was someone you didn't know?"

Hermione forced herself to think back to the attack. She was _fairly _sure that she hadn't known her attacker, but she wasn't one hundred percent sure. But she couldn't admit that out loud, or Ron would continue to think that Draco had done it. "I'm sure," she said firmly. "I didn't know him."

Harry was still eyeing her throat and cheek with simmering anger in his eyes. "I'd bet it was a Slytherin," he said quietly.

Hermione looked at him and felt her stomach clutch. The cold anger in Harry's eyes scared her worse than all of Ron's shouting had. He was absolutely sure that it had been someone in Slytherin. Which meant that he would be hunting down Draco, to try to see for himself if Draco was guilty. That was one thing Hermione_ definitely_ didn't need--one of her best friends and her boyfriend circling around one another more than they already did.

"You don't know that, Harry," Hermione said, forcing herself to sound brisk. "It might not even be someone from school."

Harry frowned. "I don't know about that, Hermione. I don't think people just randomly wander through Hogwarts."

She shot him a withering look. Then she glanced at Ginny held out her hand. She waggled her fingers in a "give it here" motion, and with an exaggerated sigh Ginny handed over Hermione's scarf. Carefully, Hermione wrapped it around her neck, covering the worst of the bruises on her throat. Then she looked at Ginny. "Are you _sure _you don't know a charm to make the bruise on my cheek go away?" she asked plaintively.

Ginny smiled dryly. "Hermione, if I knew it, you would already know it and have used it. You know _every _charm."

Hermione grumbled. "Not _every _one," she muttered under her breath. Then she flicked her eyes toward the portrait. "Are we going to go to class?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Still grumbling, the boys moved toward the portrait. Once all four had exited, Ron and Harry glanced at one another. With a feeling of foreboding, Hermione watched the two boys exchange a glance that obviously had more meaning than she noticed. Simultaneously, Harry moved to the right of Ginny, and Ron moved to Hermione's left so that both girls were between the boys.

Hermione huffed. "Is this really necessary?" she asked, already irritated and slightly embarassed by all the attention.

"Yes," Ron said shortly. She muttered and grumbled under her breath, but all three of her friends ignored her. Finally seeing that she wouldn't get a reaction out of them, she shut up. With her determined escort, she and Ginny made their way into Professor McGonagall's class.

Ginny stopped them at the door. "Um, guys, I have to go to Herbology," she said, looking amused.

Harry looked chagrined. "Right. Sorry. Forgot." He glanced at Ron. "I've got Ginny, you keep her."

Hermione huffed. "I don't need to be 'kept', Harry Potter!"

He just rolled his eyes and steered his grinning girlfriend toward the Herbology greenhouse. Feeling even more stupid as people in the class turned around to gape at her, Hermione walked to her seat, feeling her stomach knot with tension. His face grim, Ron walked beside her and sat in his customary seat on her right. She sat down and put her hands in her lap, where no one could see the way they gripped each other anxiously. Even as she told herself she was perfectly safe in a room full of students, just coming out of her dormitory made her anxious. She felt as if she were exposed on all sides to an attack, and it made her antsy. She fumbled in her pocket for her wand, and found it empty.

Her mouth opened in surprise until memory slammed into her. _Hands tangled in her long hair as a larger body slammed her ruthlessly to the hard floor. Her wand went flying into a corner from the impact as she struggled wildly, feeling her breath saw frantically in and out of her burning throat._

"Hermione?" Ron whispered, his blue eyes huge. She had been staring straight ahead for almost a minute now, and her cheeks had gone pale. Her eyes were huge, and he saw terror and pain in them. He shook her arm gently. "Hermione, wake up! What's wrong?"

She started violently when he touched her and withdrew from him in a whiplash motion. She looked over at him without comprehension in her eyes for a long minute, then her body relaxed by inches. Ron stared at her. "What was _wrong _with you? You weren't talking, you were just looking straight ahead like you were frozen."

"I was just remembering," she said quietly. "I forgot my wand."

Ron blinked. "Oh. I'll go up to the tower and get it for you." She shook her head and held him back with a light touch on his wrist.

"No, I dropped it--last night. I have to go get it." Ron gaped at her, and before he could stop her, she rose and walked to the front of the class.

"Professor McGonagall, I forgot my wand. May I go get it?"

McGonagall didn't even glance up at Hermione, and therefore didn't see her battered face. "Yes, Miss Granger. But please hurry."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione murmured. She turned and walked toward the door. As she passed him, Ron snagged her wrist. 

"You're not going alone," he said harshly. "Just let me talk to McGonagall and I'll go with you."

She tugged on her wrist, but he didn't release her. His grip tightened as a result of her tugging, and she knew that she'd have bruises there soon. Just some more to add to the heaps already, she thought grimly. "Ron, you're hurting me," she said quietly, and earned her release instantly. When he started to apologize, she turned and walked out of the classroom.

From behind her, she heard Ron's chair crash back as he jumped to his feet to go after her. Then she heard the whip of Professor McGonagall's voice. "Where are you going, Mr.Weasley?"

"I need to accompany Hermione, Professor--"

"I don't believe that Hermione Granger needs an escort, Mr.Weasley. Now sit down."

There was impotent silence for a long minute, and McGonagall's voice lashed coldly. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr.Weasley. Sit _down."_

There was silence, then she heard the slow, furious scrape as Ron sat back down in his chair. Feeling her knees tremble at the corridors that lay before her like a maze, Hermione determinedly set off for the hallway that ran in front of the Room of Requirement.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Reviewers:

Dumbledore-student~ Well, Draco _definitely _has to be OC if he's going to have a romance with _anybody, _cause it seems to me from the books that Draco just ain't the tender, lovin' type. ^_^ And about the smacking the alarm clock thing--I do write that in a lot, because it's so familiar to me. Because I do it every morning. hehe. And thanks for adding me! *hugs*

Thank you all for reviewing!


	11. Confrontations and Introspection

Disclaimer: Am I J.K. Rowling? I didn't think so. Therefore, I do not own anything contained within my story. Damn it all! (Stewie voice--for those Family Guy fans out there ^_~)

A/N: The longest chapter yet!

Even in broad daylight the long corridors made her nervous. The skin on the back of her neck prickled, and she felt like there were eyes boring into her back. She kept glancing nervously behind her, but the halls were deserted. All the students were safely in their classrooms, while the one person who _should _be in a classroom was roaming the hallways alone. Her tension kept climbing until she felt sick to her stomach. Why didn't I let Ron come with me? she thought miserably. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Then a moment later, _It never seemed like the Room of Requirement was so far away_. She felt defenseless and even more vulnerable than before; now she didn't even have her wand to protect herself with.

Up ahead she saw the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy and quickened her pace. All at once, it seemed too much like the night before--quickening her pace as she came within sight of the space of wall that hid the Room of Requirement, the deserted hallways--and she trembled violently as she nearly ran down the hallway. When she stepped over the place that she had lain the night before, a chill ran up her spine and nausea nearly choked her. _Like walking over my grave_, she thought, her mind chaotic. She felt on the edge of hysteria and in the sane portion of her mind she was shocked at herself. Hermione Granger _didn't _have hysterics. That just wasn't the way that she worked. But here she was, nearly running down the hall from something that wasn't even there anymore. She spotted her wand in the corner, still untouched, and leaped for it just as she heard footsteps behind her.

She came up with her wand pointed and eyes wild, and found herself aiming her wand at a very calm Dumbledore. Shaken, she lowered her wand immediately. "I'm sorry, Headmaster," she said jerkily, still trembling from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

"It's quite all right, Miss Granger," he said gently. "Why don't you come with me to my office?"

Biting her lip, Hermione nodded. "Yes sir," she mumbled, hanging her head and mentally berating herself. First you forget your homework, and now you're in trouble for threatening the headmaster! Could it get any worse, you silly girl? She fumed, and beat the nagging mental voice back with a stick.

"You're not in trouble, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said quietly. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

Startled, Hermione glanced up at him as he led the way to his office. He didn't _look _angry, she thought hopefully. They came to the stone gargoyle that led to his office, and he muttered, "Now what was that blasted password? Minerva always changes it on me. Ah yes--vomit flavored beans," he said triumphantly.

Hermione made a face behind Dumbledore's back as the gargoyle moved solemnly aside as the wall behind him split to reveal a spiral staircase, and he said in an amused voice, "Quite right, Miss Granger. I'm afraid Professor McGonagall has a very. . .unique sense of humor."

Hermione mentally substituted 'gross' for 'unique' and decided that sounded about right. She mutely followed Dumbledore up the stairs and into, and seated herself in the chair that he offered her. When she heard the door shut behind her, she relaxed. No matter if her attacker came from within Hogwarts or without, he would never dare to invade the sanctuary of Dumbledore's office. Especially when Dumbledore himself occupied it.

She blinked rapidly when a warm butterbeer was pressed into her hands, and realized abruptly that she had been so caught up in her thoughts that she had been blatantly ignoring the patiently waiting headmaster.

"Feel safer now?" he asked quietly. Hermione felt the last of her tension recede.

"Yes sir." She smiled ruefully at him, and he smiled briefly back. Then he sobered.

"Before I say anything, I would like you recount the events of last night to me, Miss Granger," he said somberly.

Hermione bit her lip, then nodded reluctantly. "I was--I was out to meet Draco," she blurted out, then looked up at Dumbledore anxiously. He didn't appear surprised or perturbed at this news, so she continued on, slightly reassured. "We were going to meet in the Room of Requirement, so I started walking that way. . ." Hermione continued on with her telling of the events of the night before. When she told Dumbledore of how she had been physically attacked, her hands gripped her mug of butterbeer so hard that her knuckles were white.

When she concluded, she sat back in her chair and realized with some surprise that she had been sitting as straight as a poker with tension vibrating through her like a plucked wire. She sipped her now cold butterbeer and involuntarily made a face. Dumbledore murmured a small charm, and she felt the mug warm in her hands. Startled, she looked up at him and saw that he was deep in thought, not even paying attention to her anymore. When she glanced at him again a moment later, he hadn't moved, so she turned her full attention sipping at her butterbeer. She felt her tension ease muscle by muscle, until she was finally relaxed again.

Once she was totally relaxed, Dumbledore abruptly spoke. "Thank you for telling me all this, Miss Granger. It's deeply troubling, and I'll tell the professors to keep a closer watch on the corridors." His kindly face now looked very grim. Looking at his face, at the subtle expression stamped on it, an idea suddenly occurred to Hermione.

"Professor," she said hesitantly, "do you have any idea who attacked me?"

Dumbledore looked at her sharply. Finally he sighed deeply. "I have a good idea, Miss Granger." He was silent for another moment, and she had the impression that he was deciding what exactly to tell her.

"Miss Granger, I know that you're a very well read student, but I wonder if you've ever heard of Erumpets?"

Hermione blinked. "Erumpets, sir?"

He nodded encouragingly, and Hermione blinked again. "Yes, sir," she said slowly. "They're much like elephants, and they live in Africa."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "I once visited with the matriarch of an Erumpets herd. Matriarchal creatures, you know. Very much like Muggle elephants in that respect."

Puzzled, Hermione just stared at him, wondering how this was even remotely related.

Oblivious to her confusion, Dumbledore blithely continued. "That herd mother was a nasty old biddy. Not many of the Erumpets in the herd particularly liked her, but they stay in herds for safety, you know, so they couldn't very well just take off on their own. But there was a great deal of resentment in that herd, Miss Granger. A _great _deal. While I was visiting, the herd mother was killed. I came upon her just moments after her slaying and saw a black Erumpet standing over her with blood on his tusks."

Hermione stared, her mouth gaping. "But--but sir! Erumpets are _never _black!"

"Precisely, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, nodding his head in agreement. "Which made me wonder why on earth this one was. As I watched, the black Erumpet simply faded away into nothingness."

Hermione stared, utterly confused. Dumbledore continued. "You said that your attacker was robed in black, didn't you?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Yes," she said slowly.

Dumbledore nodded, as if confirming something in his own mind. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hermione involuntarily leaned forward to try to hear. Dumbledore glanced back at her and sighed. "I'm sure you're wondering how this relates."

"Well, yes," Hermione admitted. "I don't quite understand."

Dumbledore suddenly looked years older. "I believe that your attacker was--" Abruptly his words were cut off as one of the portraits suddenly rushed back into his frame and started shouting frantically for Dumbledore. Seeing as the portrait was a portly man and had a very serious face, Hermione decided it must be a matter of utmost urgency if a portrait such as he was so upset.

Dumbledore rose to his feet instantly. "Francis? Are you quite all right?"

Francis the Currently Frantic was panting. Hermione absently wondered how portraits could become out of breath. "Headmaster!" he panted. "At--at the Ministry! They're sending out dozens of Aurors! There's a disturbance in the Forbidden Forest!"

Hermione covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes enormous as she looked up at Dumbledore. He didn't looked surprised, just resigned. He nodded curtly to the panting portrait. "Thank you, Francis. Miss Granger, we will have to continue this discussion at a later date." He ushered Hermione out of his office, then strode down the hall, leaving her behind. For one instant, Hermione saw the wizard that was so feared, instead of her kindly old headmaster.

Her mind bounced wildly from one thought to another. Dozens of Aurors sent out! That obviously meant it was something very serious. And so close to Hogwarts! She bit her lip. Did that mean there was to be an attack on Hogwarts? She was afraid to talk to Harry--he'd instantly want to go out and help. If he thought there was even a small chance of Voldemort being there, he would rush out, determined to do his duty and destroy Voldemort once and for all. So Harry was out. Ron would blab to Harry, she thought caustically. Draco? If it was Deatheaters, Draco could be too closely involved. Which left only Ginny. Ginny would never endanger Harry by telling him that Voldemort was possibly around. Torn, Hermione hesitated. But Draco would want to know. He wouldn't thank Hermione for keeping such news from him. And where did her loyalty lie?

She stuck her hand in her pocket and gripped her wand firmly as she stared at the corridors. Despite that she had felt safe in Dumbledore's office, suddenly she felt as if she were surrounded by threats on all sides. There was her mysterious attacker, as well as the trouble in the Forbidden Forest. She gnawed anxiously on her lip, her gaze faraway. Suddenly a hard shoulder drove into her ribs, sending her sprawling. She clamped her hand desperately around her wand and twisted so she didn't break it. She whipped it out and found herself pointing her wand at Blaise Zambini.

She stared up at him in shock. Had _he _been her attacker? She couldn't think of any other reason that he would be pushing her around. Instead he sneered at her. "Oops, _sorry, _Granger. Didn't see you there."

Slightly startled--this was just regular Slytherin venom, not the intense hate she had sensed from her attacker last night--she rose to her feet. "What's your damn problem, Zambini?" she asked him, scowling, her hand clenched around her wand in readiness.

He just sneered at her, and she felt the familiar irritation at that facial expression. A moment later she realized it was because formerly it had always been worn by Draco when he looked at her. "Is that so?" she asked him coldly. "I don't see anyone else in the halls, Zambini. I don't believe you couldn't have missed seeing me."

He curled his lip. "Bad eyesight. Runs in the family, you know." He smirked at her.

Hermione just glared at him coldly. "No, I don't know, Zambini. I don't make it a point to mingle with rats."

His eyes flashed, and he took a step forward, his fists clenched. "Why you little bitch!"

Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at him. She was proud to see that her hand was steady. "If you take one more step towards me, Zambini, I swear I'll stun you and rightfully claim self-defense. And who do you think everyone will believe?"

He didn't move, just stared at her with an impotent fury that sent a chill up her spine. "I don't need to touch you, you whore," he said icily, and Hermione felt her stomach knot. "There'll be other times."

"Is that a threat?" Hermione asked steadily.

Zambini sneered. "You bet that sweet mudblood ass it is. What are you gonna do, mudblood? Report me to that doddering old fool that people call a headmaster?"

"I could," Hermione said, her brown eyes watchful.

"But you won't," Blaise said softly, his eyes just as watchful as hers. They had squared off like two combatants in a wizard's duel, but Zambini still didn't have his wand out. Hermione still had hers pointed at him. After last night, she wasn't taking any chances with Zambini's good nature.

Hermione glared at him. "And what makes you think I won't report you, Zambini?" she asked, goaded. "It's sure as hell not for love."

"It's not?" he asked softly, and Hermione stared at him in silence. _He knows_, she thought numbly. He knows about me and Draco.

He didn't say anything else, just watched her as she watched him. Finally she lowered her wand and said curtly, "Get back to class, Zambini."

He made a mocking little bow. "Oh, yes _ma'am_." Then he turned smartly on his heel and walked away, his hands shoved into his pockets and whistling a sprightly little tune. Once he turned the corner, Hermione let herself relax slightly. She stared at the place where she had last seen him, feeling impotent fury bubble in her veins. "You bastard," she whispered. "Sneaky, underhanded bastard." He knew that she wouldn't report his threats, because if she reported him, he would spread the word about Draco's relationship with her. And Draco had made it clear that he didn't want their relationship public.

In the beginning, she had agreed with him. At first, she had just wanted that lovely man all to herself. But somewhere along the way their relationship had moved past the physical and into the emotional. She loved him now. And she would gladly make their relationship public, even if she had to endure the whispers and animosity from Gryffindors and Slytherins alike. She knew the name 'whore' would be only the first that would be whispered about her. But she would even endure that, because she wasn't ashamed to be Draco's woman. Woman, girlfriend, Hermione thought sadly. Did it make a difference? Words were just words--they were all the same. At night she dreamed of the life she could have with him, and in the morning knew that it would never happen.

Even if Draco _wanted _to continue their relationship past Hogwarts, his family would never allow it. Hermione was Muggle born, which made her less than dirt beneath their pristine shoes. Oh, they were certainly pristine, Hermione thought bitterly. Beneath all that shiny shoe polish was the blood of people who the Malfoys had stepped on and murdered to rise to the highest ranks of Lord Voldemort's Deatheaters. Hermione shuddered at the thought that Draco might ever follow in his father's footsteps. The thought terrified her. Draco might be annoying, antagonistic, and didn't like Harry one bit, but it didn't make him evil. He was a good man underneath all that. Hermione knew that she was perhaps the only person who had ever seen so deeply into Draco Malfoy to know that there was a strong, steady man beneath his smirking veneer. Certainly his father never had.

Bleakly, Hermione wondered if she and Draco were going to become a wizard and witch version of _Romeo and Juliet_. She just hoped that their fate didn't end up the same.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No shoutouts in particular to readers this time. ^_^ Just a general thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. ^_^


	12. An Empty Classroom and Pickled Eggs

Disclaimer: Do I live in a huge mansion? I didn't think so. If I did I wouldn't be here with youz guyz. I'd be writing HP novel #6. So I'm not J.K. Rowling, and so I don't own any of this.

A/N: I wrote three chapters this weekend, so I'll post them all at once. Just because I love y'all. *wink*

"Mr.Longbottom, did I mention wolfsbane at all? Was wolfsbane involved in my instructions?"

"No--no, Professor."

"Then why have you added it to your potion? Are you trying to poison your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"No, Professor."

"Then I think you should be more frugal with your use of my stores of wolfsbane, Mr.Longbottom, lest we someday come up short and have a werewolf running rampant on our grounds. I should think that you wouldn't like to be around a werewolf, especially when he's hungry--"

The door to the Potions room opened abruptly, cutting off Snape's vicious diatribe. Neville looked relieved, and he slumped in his seat, looking slightly green. Snape narrowed his eyes at Hermione, who stood in the doorway. The whole class turned around, their eyes wide. Hermione had stood outside the doorway to compose herself before she even opened the door, so she said calmly, "Professor, Professor McGonagall would like to see Draco Malfoy."

Snape narrowed his eyes and didn't answer for a long moment. Then he flicked a glance at Draco, who rose smoothly. He shot Hermione a look of pure dislike, which she promptly returned. Hermione stepped out of the doorway so she wouldn't touch Draco. She closed the door firmly behind them. Once the door was closed, her facade of calm cracked, and Draco's eyes narrowed on her face. He clamped his hand around her wrist, and she winced. Bruises were already showing on her fair skin from where Ron had grabbed her. She discreetly pulled her sleeve over her wrist, not wanting Draco to see the marks.

He pulled her into an old classroom. There was a fine layer of dust over everything, including the windows. As a result the room was poorly lit, and there was a murky feel to it. As soon as she stepped into the room, Hermione sneezed violently. Draco glanced at her, impatience in his gray eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm allergic--" she sneezed again, "to dust." And proceeded to have a fit of three sneezes in a row.

Draco huffed impatiently and muttered a quick spell. The dust vanished from the desks and windows, leaving the room as clean as if a squad of Merry Maids had invaded. Hermione stopped sneezing and looked at him with watery eyes. "Thanks."

"No problem," he muttered. "Now tell me what's wrong. I know McGonagall doesn't really need me."

Hermione shook her head. "No." She took a deep breath. She was clearly drawing her lines, and it made her sick to her stomach. If she told Draco before she told anyone else about the potential threat that was in the Forbidden Forest, Harry and Ron would feel betrayed if they found out. She had sided with Draco, and they wouldn't like it one bit. But if she loved Draco, then she had to be willing to trust him. She bit her lip, and Draco frowned. "Just spit it out, Granger!" he said edgily. 

That caused her to smile. Ah, despite his other good qualities, patience would never be one of Draco's virtues. Then she sobered. "I went to Dumbledore's office, Draco. When I was there, a portrait came into his frame and said that he had just come from the Ministry."

Draco's body tightened, but he didn't interrupt her, so she continued. "He said that dozens of Aurors had been sent out, Draco. Sent to the Forbidden Forest."

"The Forbidden Forest?" Draco exploded. "What the hell are Deatheaters doing so close to Hogwarts? Did Dumbledore go out there?"

Hermione nodded mutely, worry stamped on her face as she watched Draco start to pace. She nibbled on her lower lip. "Draco--" she asked hesitantly. "Have you heard anything about this?"

He gave her a fulminating look. "No, I haven't heard anything," he snapped. "Don't you think I would have told you?"

Hermione hesitated, and Draco turned slowly to look at her. Seeing the look in his eyes, Hermione said hurriedly, "I know that you're not like your father, Draco, it's just--well--he _is _your father, and---"

"And you thought that I'd choose my father over you," Draco finished for her. Hermione bit her lip and stared at him with miserable eyes. "It's not so much that," she said, clearly upset. "But I just wasn't sure, Draco---"

"Then why the hell did you tell me then?" he snapped at her. "Aren't you worried that I'll go warn them? Devoted son of a Deatheater that I am?"

Hermione looked on the verge of tears, and even through his anger Draco had to steel himself not to comfort her. The damned woman was like a drug in his veins, he thought furiously. She had crawled so deep inside him that he didn't think he'd ever be free of her. He didn't want to feel this much for her. She was a complication, a hassle and an annoyance. But she made him feel---worthy. Cared for. Loved. And despite how much she messed up his strict plans for his life, he wouldn't get rid of her. Not even when she was being a trying nuisance, like now.

Hermione looked at him, and her heart ached. He was so proud. He stood there like some blond Viking, with that mutinous, angry look on his face, but she saw the sense of hurt in his eyes. She crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him and clung, even when he stayed as stiff as a board against her. She buried her head against his chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Draco. It's just--I'm really scared. What if they try to invade Hogwarts? What if they want you to join them? I don't want you hurt. It scares me to death."

Slowly, his body softened against hers, and his arms came around her to comfort. He laid his head on top of hers, and smelled the scent that was uniquely hers clinging to her hair. She smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. Merlin, he loved that smell. He knew that no matter how long he lived, whenever he smelled either scent he would think of her. "I know it scares you," he said softly. "But you have to trust me. I'm not going to join them. I'm not my father, Hermione."

"I know that!" she said fiercely, her arms tightening around him with what Draco would have sworn was protectiveness. "I know that! You couldn't _be_ more different."

Draco laughed harshly. "I don't know about that, love. We're both hard, cruel bastards."

Hermione tilted up her head to look at him. "You're not," she said loyally. "You're not like that."

Draco sighed. "It's nice that you think so, love."

"I know so," she said more calmly. She pressed a kiss to his throat. "I'm sorry I doubted you," she said, the apology in her warm brown eyes.

Draco sighed and raked one hand through his hair, mussing it up. Hermione brought one hand up to play with one lock that fell over his eye. "Hell, baby," he said gruffly. "I'd doubt me too."

Hermione smiled slightly. Draco smiled back at her and kissed her eyelids as her eyes slid shut. Suddenly his mouth pulled away, and she felt the brush of his fingertips on her wrist. Startled, her eyes flew open, and she saw that when she reached up to play with his hair, her sleeve had slid away from her wrist, revealing the bracelet of bruises that Ron had left.

Draco's eyes narrowed savagely. "Those weren't there last night," he said dangerously.

Hermione stared up at him, not sure what to say. If she told him that Ron had left the marks, Draco could easily kill Ron. "Who did it?" Draco asked, his voice too soft.

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again. Draco gave her a little shake that made her eyes flash. "Who did it?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Don't make me ask again, Hermione."

"Or what?" she flared, stepping out of his embrace.

"Or I'll find Potter and the Weasel and find out myself."

She glared, but knew that if she didn't tell him Harry would be punished for something he didn't even know had happened. "I dropped my wand last night," Hermione told him, watching his face for signs of his mood. "I went to McGonagall's class and realized I didn't have it. I asked to go get it, and Ron stopped me because I was going alone. He grabbed me--" she saw Draco's face shift into rising rage, and added quickly, "but he let me go as soon as I told him that it hurt, Draco. He didn't mean to. He was trying to protect me," she said rather desperately.

"He left marks on you," Draco said with icy control.

"But he was trying to _protect _me, just like you wanted!"

"He--put--marks--on--you," Draco said, enunciating the words precisely, his eyes still furious. He turned on his heel and made for the door, but Hermione jumped forward and grabbed his arm. He didn't stop, and didn't even seem to realize that she was pulling on him. "Draco!" she said desperately. "Draco, wait!"

He stopped and glared at her. She glared right back. "He was doing exactly like you wanted," she snapped at him. "Why are you going to go beat him up for that?"

"Protecting you didn't involve leaving marks on you," Draco said with deceptive calm.

"It was an _accident,"_ Hermione stressed.

"Accidents like that aren't allowed to happen to my woman," Draco said coldly, making for the door again.

Panicked, Hermione thought quickly. Then she said furiously, "Your _woman? _You make me sound like you shelve me in importance somewhere between your house elf and your knickers, Draco Malfoy!"

He shot her a glance filled with anger and puzzlement. "What?"

She released him to put her hands on her hips. "That _phrase! _You make me sound like something you own!"

"I did not!" Draco turned completely around to glare back at her, and Hermione felt a rush of dazzling relief. She didn't give a damn what he called her, she was just trying to distract him so that he forgot about his intention to go after Ron.

"That's exactly what it sounds like," she said furiously. "And I won't stand for it!"

Draco arched one eyebrow sardonically. "You won't stand for it?"

"No!" she sniffed. "I won't. I'm not one of your groupies, Draco!"

He scoffed at her. "I never said you were."

"That's what you made it sound like!" Privately Hermione thought she was edging into harpy territory, but there was still that lingering anger in his eyes. So she continued to push and prod until he was firmly aggravated with her, and forgot about the marks on her wrist.

Finally Draco threw up his hands. "By Merlin! Woman, you could try the patience of a saint. And Merlin knows I'm no damned saint. I'll have to shut you up my way." He took a long step to close the distance between them and effectively shut her up with his mouth on hers.

Hermione felt her eyes drift shut as she relaxed back against the arm that was clamped around her back. Merlin, the man was a good kisser, she thought dreamily. When he released her mouth, she just looked up at him with dreamy eyes. With a sigh of defeat--he could never resist those eyes--he kissed her again.

A moment later, he raised his head when Peeves swooped through the doorway. "Lookee here!" he shouted. "We have a couple of loooovebirds!" he sang, cackling gleefully.

Draco scowled at the troublemaking ghost. "Go _away, _Peeves," he snarled.

Peeves just continued to laugh at them. "Who would have thought it? A Gryffindor and a Slytherin in an abandoned classroom, snogging each other's brains out!"

Hermione felt a rising flicker of annoyance. She glanced up at Draco, and he seemed to swell slightly. "Get lost, Peeves," he snapped. "Otherwise I'll have to ask the Bloody Baron to dispose of you."

Peeves abruptly stopped laughing and glared at them. He sniffed haughtily. "You don't think that I see what goes on around here? I do, oh I do. Don't think I don't. I saw who attacked your little morsel, Slytherin. But just because of that bit of nastiness, I won't tell you."

Hermione and Draco gaped at Peeves as he sailed out of the classroom through the closed door, clearly miffed. Hermione looked up at Draco with wide eyes. "Draco--" she stammered. "If Peeves saw, then he could tell us!"

"But he's not going to," Draco said grimly. " Damned contrary ghost. But I'll ask the Bloody Baron to intervene on that score."

Hermione nodded, her swollen mouth trembling slightly. Draco sighed, and brushed his fingertips over her bruised cheek. "You worry me," he murmured. "Damned if I know why I let you."

Hermione smiled cheekily. "Because you love me?"

He didn't grin wryly as she had expected. He looked serious, and the smile faded from her lips. She just stared up at him with wide eyes. She didn't know how long they stood together in silence, just staring at one another, until she heard the heavy clomping of shoes in the outer corridor.

The spell abruptly broken, Draco and Hermione's gazes both flew to the door as the heavy footsteps got closer. Hermione's horrified gaze flew to Draco's face. The person was coming inside the classroom! Draco looked grim as he grabbed her hand and dashed over to a large standing cabinet. He rattled the lock on it, then whipped out his wand and muttered hurriedly, "_Alohamora_!" The lock clicked quietly open, and he pocketed it impatiently and nearly shoved Hermione inside, then climbed in after her. He quickly shut the doors, leaving them cracked slightly so they could see.

He stuck his eye to the crack, but Hermione elbowed him sharply. He grunted, and glared down at her in the darkness of the cabinet. "What the hell is in here?" Hermione muttered, wrinkling her nose. It smelled like pickled eggs and a combination of decaying herbs. "Where did you hide us, Draco?"

"How the hell should I know?" Draco muttered. "It was big, we could hide in it. Did you have any other ideas, smart ass?"

There was a second of silence. "Smart ass," she muttered back. She elbowed her way next to him so that she could also peer out the crack.

"Oh damn," she sighed. "I'm going to smell like pickled eggs all the way to the dormitory." Then the outside door was opening, and they both held their breath as two scorched and weary professors walked into the room and nearly collapsed into chairs.


	13. Eavesdropped Conversations

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns it all. Yes, indeedy do. She shure does. *nods wisely*

"Minerva, are you quite all right?" Dumbledore asked, turning his head slightly to look at Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall waved her hand absently. "Yes, Albus, I'm fine. I'm fine. Just a little out of breath."

Dumbledore's eyes were still concerned. "You took quite a hit," he said slowly.

"And gave one right back," McGonagall said fiercely. She swiped her hand over her soot blackened cheek and grimaced.

Dumbledore smiled wryly. "Yes, indeed you did, Minerva. I thought turning that one into a bush was an inspired idea. A prickly pear bush, no less. Very fitting."

McGonagall preened slightly. "Yes, I thought so myself, Albus." Then she looked up as several other weary and battle-marked people walked into the room. Hermione and Draco shared a resigned glance within the cupboard. _How do we always manage to get into these situations? _Hermione wondered with a mental sigh.

A lean man with a shock of white hair and features as young as a teenager's closed the door behind him. "All present and accounted for?" he said wearily, and there was a chorus of weary murmurs from those assembled.

He sighed in relief and then slumped into his own seat. "Twenty Deatheaters, Dumbledore. Why the hell were they so close to Hogwarts? Voldemort wasn't even with them. I don't think they'd try a siege on Hogwarts if their leader wasn't around."

"I don't think they were trying to lay siege to Hogwarts, Justin," Dumbledore said, and to her surprise, Hermione heard a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

A woman in black robes with black hair cut in a smooth bob spoke up. There was a slash of charcoal on her cheek marking that she had also been in the battle. "Then why would they even venture into the Forbidden Forest, Dumbledore? There's nothing in there except wild creatures."

"There is a great deal more in there than 'wild creatures', Arnora," Dumbledore said sadly. "But most of those things have been forgotten. In most cases, that's a good thing. Some of the objects hidden within the Forbidden Forest should remain hidden. But some of them--some of them were once objects of great power."

"Things of evil," Arnora nodded, but looked surprised when Dumbledore shook his head.

"Power isn't inherently evil or good, Arnora. The power is just there--the intent and the use lies with the wielder."

"So basically, the big bad stuff in the Forest is just lying around, and if Voldemort finds it then we're screwed." This was from another witch with a sharp featured face, and eyes that darted everywhere.

This time it was McGonagall who spoke up. "None of the things--whether important or no--are just lying around the Forbidden Forest. There have been guards and wards placed on these items. They're not just waiting for someone to pick them up and use them."

"So are we going to go out and find one these things and use it against them?" snapped a red-haired man who had been slouched in the corner, his blue eyes brooding.

Within the confines of the closet, Hermione's fingers dug into Draco's arm and she muffled her gasp.

Dumbledore shook his head. "The risks are much too great, Bill. I don't even know that I could acquire one of these items," he admitted.

"So why are we worrying about it?" Bill snapped. "Two great Aurors just died. Why are we worrying about items that nobody can get to?"

"I didn't say no one could get to them," Dumbledore said quietly. "And no one's forgotten about Cassie and Kevin, Bill."

"Well it sure as hell seems like it," Bill said furiously. 

"They knew the risks, Bill," Arnora said softly. "They knew what they were getting into."

"Yeah, well I didn't," Bill shouted. "I didn't think I was going to lose people, Arnora. What if tomorrow it's you that falls at my feet? You that I fail to save?"

Arnora's eyes were compassionate and filled with tears. She rose and went to stand close to Bill. "I don't need you to save me, Bill," she said softly. "They didn't need you to save _them. _You did what you were supposed to."

"I was supposed to help people," Bill said jerkily. "Protect people. It's in the job description."

Hesitantly, Arnora's hand reached out and touched Bill's bright red hair. "And so is following orders, honey. We went there to stop the Deatheaters from coming any closer to Hogwarts. That's what we did. Nobody blames you."

"I do," Bill said roughly. "Oh Merlin, I do."

A single glittering tear slid over Arnora's cheek as she knelt beside Bill and pulled him into her arms. He stiffened for a moment as if he would push her away, then his body shuddered in her arms as if he wept. But his eyes stayed dry. Dry and burning with such grief that Hermione felt tears wet her own cheeks. Her hand found Draco's and gripped tight.

The other witches and wizards in the room looked down at their respective desks, and Hermione saw a few surreptiously swipe away tears. Dumbledore's voice was tight with emotion when he spoke. "No one's forgotten, Bill," he said simply. Bill didn't answer, just stayed within the circle of Arnora's arms and wept tears that never fell.

Finally Arnora looked up at Dumbledore, her eyes brilliant with tears. "I'm going to take him to lie down," she said softly.

Dumbledore nodded, and Arnora helped Bill to his feet. He seemed dazed, and passively let her lead him from the room. There was silence for a minute after they left the room, then a witch with softly rounded curves spoke up. "Bill's right about one thing, Dumbledore. If the acquisition of all these objects is theoretical, why are we even discussing it?"

Dumbledore suddenly looked old. "Acquiring these objects isn't impossible. Just difficult," he said quietly. "And I'm sure Voldemort knows about them. Which would explain the Deatheaters' presence in the forest."

"But if they're so difficult to reach, then why is he sending minions?" The white haired wizard named Justin demanded. "Why wouldn't he come himself?"

"Insomuch as I know, the objects are each guarded by several levels of wards. I'm sure to Voldemort's thinking, he'll just wear down the wards."

"But Albus," McGonagall protested, "that's a waste of his good followers. Why would he do such a thing?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Voldemort doesn't think in terms of human lives as we do, Minerva. He thinks in terms of chess. And all of his Deatheaters are just pawns to use as he sees fit. If some need to be sacrificed for his cause, then he has no qualms about it."

McGonagall's lips pressed into a hard line and she said nothing. Justin spoke up again. "These are all just assumptions. We don't _know _that Voldemort wasn't trying to get into Hogwarts. After all, the famous Harry Potter is here. He could be after him."

Dumbledore pursued his lips. "It would not do for us to rule out that possibility and then be wrong. I'll put up more security about Harry, Justin, you may be sure of that."

"But we're still dancing around the real subject, Dumbledore," said another witch with bright pink hair. For one moment, Hermione was sure that she was Tonks, but this witch had darkly tanned skin and slanted brown eyes. "Our main concern is how to keep the Deatheaters under control. Did your spy even know about this attack?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "He mentioned nothing."

Soft murmurs swept around the room, and Justin demanded, "Are you sure he's trustworthy, Dumbledore? Or do we have a snake in our midst?"

"I'm sure," Dumbledore said firmly. "One time when he did not inform us of danger does not make him a traitor, ladies and gentlemen. It is very possible that he was completely unaware of the possibility of this attack."

"That's true," Justin said grudgingly. Then he sighed, and his hand went to his head to absently rub his temple. "I'm at a bit of a loss, Dumbledore. Two of my best Aurors died today, and I want to know why. But we're dealing on suppositions and half-baked theories here. That isn't good enough."

"I know that, Justin. But it's all we have." Dumbledore looked up at him with blue eyes that were filled with sadness.

Justin moved to his feet with a nimble grace that surprised Hermione. He moved like a dancer in a ballet, but with a more dangerous movement. Like a big, dangerous cat, she decided. Justin started to pace up and down the room, reminding Hermione strongly of Draco's movements just a little while ago. His robes swished around his ankles as he walked back and forth across the room. Finally he slammed his hands down on the surface of a desk and shouted, "I want to know why, dammit! Cassie and Kevin were damn good Aurors, Dumbledore! They didn't deserve to die in some pissant skirmish."

"No one deserves to die, Justin," McGonagall said in a steady voice. When Justin turned his heated gaze upon her, she held it calmly. Finally he tore his gaze away and resumed pacing, muttering under his breath to himself.

Finally he spun on his heel and faced the room again. "We need one of those objects. If we can get one, then we'll have something to beat Voldemort with!"

"No one can defeat Voldemort except Harry Potter," Dumbledore said quietly, watching Justin with a wary look in his eyes.

Justin dismissed that with a wave. "The prophecy never thought we would have one of these objects. If we have one, then I don't think even Voldemort could withstand that."

"Justin, be reasonable. You know that it would have said something in the prophecy if there was a loophole. There's not. Harry and Voldemort will have to fight each other."

Justin turned to glare at Dumbledore. "So you're saying that some kid is gonna fight this asshole, and he's gonna win, when some of my _best _Aurors have died trying? Sounds like a load of crap to me, Dumbledore."

"Are you doubting the validity of the prophecy?" Dumbledore asked calmly, as if they were discussing whether or not to have sugar in their tea.

"Hell yes, I'm doubting it!" Justin snapped. "I don't think that it's possible that some kid has more skills than highly trained Aurors, dammit!"

"Maybe he just has more heart," Dumbledore said quietly. Justin turned on him with a snarl.

"More heart? More _heart? _Cassie and Kevin had heart, Dumbledore. They died for this cause. And just because this kid bounced an Unforgivable off his head and lived to tell about it--he has more heart than my Aurors who go out _every single day _and fight, knowing that they might not live to see the end of the day?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Justin, I never said that what your people do isn't an admirable feat, or an honorable one. And I don't feel like getting into an argument with you about something that we both agree on."

"Fine," Justin muttered sullenly.

"I think that we all need rest," McGonagall said calmly. "We're all upset, tired and on edge. Things will look clearer later. Bill's set a good example. Let's follow it."

There were uncomfortable mutters around the room, but everyone rose and reluctantly filed out the door. Justin talked quietly to each of his Aurors on the way out, then came face to face with Dumbledore. Justin looked at Dumbledore, and his eyes hardened. "We'll continue this later, Dumbledore," he said coolly.

Dumbledore inclined his head. "At your earliest convenience, Justin," he said calmly. Justin nodded curtly and stalked out of the room. Hermione saw Dumbledore and McGonagall exchange a quick look, then they too exited the room, closing the door softly behind them.

Hermione started to move to get out of the cabinet, but Draco held her back. "Wait," he whispered. "Just to make sure they're gone."

Reluctantly, smelling the rank odor in the cabinet even more keenly than before now that she wasn't engrossed in the actions in the room, Hermione waited until Draco cautiously opened the doors to the cabinet and jumped out. He glanced warily at the door, then turned around and lifted Hermione out of the cabinet and set her on the floor. She looked down at her clothes and grimaced. "Yuck," she sighed. "I smell terrible."

"That you do," Draco agreed, and she shot him a dirty look.

"Well you don't have to agree with me," she muttered, and he smiled swiftly, then sobered.

"That was Bill Weasley, wasn't it?" he said quietly.

Hermione nodded slowly, and felt her lip tremble. "Yes," she whispered. "That was Bill." Her hand found Draco's and clung. "Two Aurors died out there today, Draco."

Draco nodded, his gray eyes thoughtful. "I wonder why the Deatheaters were out," he mused.

"D'you think your father would mention it, by chance?" Hermione ventured.

Draco sighed. "I doubt it, Mione. But hopefully." He glanced swiftly at the watch on his wrist, and saw that it was blinking, 'You're an hour late to Herbology', and swore softly. "Look, baby, I've got to go. I have to wash all this stuff off me, then run to Herbology."

Hermione nodded. "I've missed most of classes today," she said with a sigh. She held up her hands and grimaced. "And I desperately want a bath."

Draco grinned down at her. "You desperately _need _one."

She wrinkled her nose at him, then pressed a light kiss to his lips. "We need to talk about what we heard later," she said seriously.

He nodded, his gray eyes solemn. "We will."

Hermione nodded back. Draco went to the door and cracked it open and peered around the corner. The hallway was clear--no professors in sight. He kissed Hermione quickly. "Be careful," he stressed. "I don't want to have to rescue you again."

Hermione sniffed. "Well _fine _then," she muttered rebelliously. He rolled his eyes and then darted down the hallway.

She smiled after him, then headed the other way, her thoughts occupied by dead Aurors and a warm bath.


	14. Dreaming of You

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all this stuff.

A/N: By the way, I suddenly changed my mind halfway through that Ginny and Hermione would have _connecting _rooms, instead of sharing one. I didn't figure I should change it in the previous chapters because you guys have already read the part where they share a room. So just keep in mind that Hermione has her own room now. ^_^

When she stepped through the portrait and into the Gryffindor common room, she was immediately accosted by Ron and Harry. Ginny hovered a little behind them, concern in her eyes. "Why didn't you let me go with you?" Ron raged. "You shouldn't be going around by yourself!"

"I was just fine, Ron!"

"You might not have been! You didn't even have your wand with you!"

Hermione didn't mention that the same thought had occurred to her. "But I was _fine, _Ron. Nothing happened to me."

"This time," Ron muttered. "What about next time?"

Hermione blew out an irritated breath. "Fine. I promise that I'll let you come with me next time, Ron."

Ron narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. Then he blinked, and looked confused. "What smells?"

Ron could have sworn that he saw a blush tinge Hermione's cheeks. "Me," she muttered, moving towards the stairs that led to her room. "I'm going to take a shower." Then she escaped upstairs.

She turned on the hot water and shed her clothes, making a face. Merlin, I'm really glad that I didn't meet anyone on the way to the tower, she thought in relief. It was bad enough that she had met her other friends. She had truly smelled _rank_.

She stepped into the shower and sighed blissfully as she hot water stung her skin. The steam in the room rose, and she closed her eyes and let the heat and silence soothe the stresses of the day. She felt like she had been stuck on an emotional roller coaster all day. First she had had to brave the hallways on her own--albeit by her own choice--then she had had a meeting with Dumbledore, a confrontation with Zambini, _another _confrontation with her irate boyfriend, watched an emotional meeting of battle weary Aurors, and been one of the few students in Hogwarts to know that they were under the possibility of attack.

A tension headache had long ago been gripping her neck and shoulders, and the hot water pounded down and started to unravel all the knots of tension that had seized her neck and shoulders. Even after she had scrubbed herself clean and washed her hair twice to get out all of the smell, she still stood beneath the hot water, her eyes closed, nearly falling asleep. When the water started to turn cold, she reluctantly turned it off with a flick of her wrist. She stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her body. She felt like her body was long and loose, and she wanted nothing more than to sprawl out on the bed and take a lazy nap.

She stepped out of the bathroom and her gaze went to her bed. So tempting, she thought yearningly. Then she smiled ruefully. Hell, why not? She had already missed all her classes for the day, so it wasn't like she needed a reason to stay awake. She walked over and started to move toward her dresser to grab some pajamas, then hesitated.

Feeling mischievous, she shed her towel and then crawled into her bed. The cool sheets slowly warmed against her skin, and she sighed blissfully as she snuggled deeper into them, her eyes closing. Moments later she was asleep.

*********

She dreamed of him. Those gorgeous gray eyes that haunted her days and nights. She dreamt that the night had turned cold and stormy as lightning lashed the skies. She dreamed he came to her window and unlocked it and stepped into the room and came to her.

His hands were cold against her warm skin, and made her shiver. His fingertips brushed over her delicate collarbone and traced a line down her arm to her fingertips and back up again. She arched beneath his hands as lightning flashed and filled the room with brilliance. In the sudden flash, she looked up into his eyes and saw them filled with heat and passion.

She sighed his name as he pulled off his soaking wet shirt and dropped it on the floor. He crawled up beside her, and she pulled his face down to hers for a slow kiss.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice vibrating with intensity. "Merlin, you're so damn beautiful."

She sighed again, her eyes drifting shut as she felt his hands on her again. Then she let herself fall into a pool of passion that swirled around them both and gladly let herself drown in it.

********

Hermione opened her eyes in the morning and winced at the bright sunlight that shone through her window. A bird flitted by her window, singing cheerfully. She stretched lazily, and blinked. She was naked. Why was she naked? she thought, confused. Abruptly she remembered falling asleep without her clothes, and then her dream.

Her lips curved in a satisfied smile. Such a lovely, lovely dream, she thought dreamily. She sat up, raking one hand through her hair that was still damp. She started to get off the bed, and blinked when her hand fell on something. Startled, she glanced down and saw a single stemmed rose lying on her bed, deprived of its thorns.

She stared at it, her mouth open in shock. _"I have to go," he whispered. "I love you, Hermione." He brushed the soft petals of a rose over her cheek, then over her swollen lips. Then he laid it on the bed beside her and kissed her softly. Then he was gone._

That was a dream! Hermione thought in shock. A _dream!_ Draco hadn't _really _been here last night. The rose was just one Harry had given Ginny, Hermione rationalized to herself as she rose. She didn't notice the supple, graceful way that she moved, or the wet spot on the floor beside her bed. She pulled on a pair of jeans. Thank Merlin it's Saturday, she thought ruefully. I'm not sure I could wake up in time for classes.

She felt relaxed and completely calm. She went to her window and saw the world was glittering like a damp emerald. The grass was sparkling green, and the sky was the bright blue that could only be achieved after a storm. A frown creased Hermione's forehead, but she shook it off. _It had stormed in her dream_. She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Some of the swelling had gone down on her throat, and some of the bruises were fading. Or at least turning green instead of black, she thought sourly.

She went back into the bedroom and rapped softly on the door that connected her room with Ginny's. When Ginny didn't answer, Hermione decided that either Ginny was still asleep or she wasn't in her room. So she pulled on some warm socks and went downstairs. The common room was quiet. It might seem late to Hermione, but it was early to everyone else. The people that were up were still subdued, and sat quietly talking or sipping at coffee, their eyes bleary with sleep still.

Hermione went to the coffee machine, and saw that a hot cup was already waiting. She sipped at it absently. She walked over to the window seat and climbed up and pulled her knees up to her chest and looked outside pensively as she sipped at her morning coffee. In the distance, she could see the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, and it abruptly brought back the events of yesterday.

Two Aurors dead, she thought sadly. And they had been Bill's friends. She was still shocked at Bill's appearance in a meeting of Aurors. She had had no idea that Bill was an Auror. She was under the impression that he worked at Gringott's. She wondered absently if Ron knew what his brother did. Being an Auror was dangerous, especially in these times, and Bill might not want to worry his family.

Then there was that confrontation with Zambini. She still wasn't sure what to think of that. She was sure that he had purposefully sought her out, but had he sought her out because he was her midnight attacker or because of some other reason? He was a Slytherin, after all, and she was a Gryffindor. Just because Draco had reformed his thoughts about her didn't mean that the rest of his House had. The rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor was just as strong as ever. It had only lost its figureheads of the war between the Houses--Draco and Hermione.

Then there was the very fact of the Deatheaters' appearance in the Forbidden Forest. She knew that Dumbledore more than likely had wards around Hogwarts. In fact, she knew he did. So how had the Deatheaters breached those wards? She nibbled anxiously on her lip, her gaze faraway. Her coffee cooled in her hands as she mulled over the puzzles that had presented themselves.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when Fred and George burst into the common room. Everyone glanced up and grumbled a bit at the fuss that the two boys were making. When the twins saw Hermione watching them warily from the window seat, they hurried over to her. Oh no, Hermione thought in dread. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what new trick they had concocted.

"Hermione!" George panted. "Great! You're awake!"

"Yes," she said cautiously.

Fred grinned at her charmingly. "We wanted to ask you about something."

"What is it?"

"Well--" George said, taking a deep breath, "we've made a new invention called Gumdrop Bubbles. So when you chew on them, you start to burp bubbles."

Hermione blinked rapidly as they watched her in anticipation. "And what," she said slowly, "is the purpose to this invention?"

They just grinned brightly at her. "We were waiting for you to ask!" Fred said enthusiastically. "Once you've burped the bubble, it floats about and then when it pops, it makes this really loud burping sound."

Hermione stared at them and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You still haven't told me how this is beneficial in any way," she said dryly.

Undaunted, they grinned at her. George lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "_Well, _if you start burping bubbles in class, they've got to get you out, haven't they? No professor wants some kid burping loud obnoxious bubbles in class."

Hermione sighed and wondered why Harry had ever wanted to finance these two. "I see," she said mildly. "And what was it that you wanted me to answer for you?"

"We wanted you to test them!" The boys both had hopeful looks in their eyes, and Hermione could swear that they were trying to use the puppy dog eyes on her.

She looked them both in the eyes and said firmly, "No."

Their faces fell. "Aww, Hermione! Why not?" Fred whined.

"Because I don't want to be burping bubbles, that's why," Hermione said with a sigh. She flicked her gaze around the room and lit upon Angelina. Angelina happened to lazily glance up and see that Hermione was the object of the twins' undivided attention, and immediately surmised that Hermione was looking for someone to sic the twins on. She started frantically waving her hands and mouthing, "NO! _NO_!"

Hermione smiled and said calmly, "I think you should ask Angelina to try it for you."

The twins perked up. "Really? You think Angelina would try it?"

"I think it won't hurt to ask her," Hermione said with a small smile. The twins bounced up.

"Thanks, Hermione!" George patted her on the shoulder and then the twins made a beeline for Angelina, who gave Hermione a dirty look. Hermione smiled into her coffee cup and gave a little finger wave to Angelina, who looked at the oncoming twins with something akin to horror on her face.

Ginny walked up to Hermione, her eyes heavy with sleep. She scratched her hip absently. "I see that you've already had an encounter with the twins," she yawned.

Hermione smiled at her friend and moved so that Ginny could clamber up beside her. "Ah yes," she said dryly. "It was Gumdrop Bubbles this time. They make you burp bubbles."

"Fascinating," Ginny murmured as she smothered another yawn.

Hermione mutely passed Ginny her cup of coffee, and Ginny sipped at it for a long moment while Hermione watched the twins hassle Angelina for several minutes. Finally Ginny handed the cup back to Hermione, who tossed back the last dregs of it. It was an early morning routine that they had fallen into since Ginny had come to Hogwarts. Hermione woke up early and sipped coffee, then Ginny woke up and finished off Hermione's cup. It was a comforting, familiar ritual.

More alert after her jolt of caffeine, Ginny peered at Hermione's neck. "How's the throat feel?"

"Better," Hermione admitted. "Better than I thought it would feel, actually. I just feel a lot better overall."

Ginny nodded encouragingly. "Good," she said, obviously satisfied. She sighed. "Today's a Hogsmeade weekend. Are you going to go out?"

Hermione shrugged. She didn't really feel like it, but what else was there to do? "I suppose so," she murmured.

Ginny nodded. "Okay. Harry and Ron should be down soon. I'm going to go get ready."

Hermione nodded mutely, and Ginny trudged back upstairs. Hermione propped her chin on her knees and stared out the window broodingly until she felt the warm brush of fur against her hands. Startled, she glanced up and saw that Crookshanks was eyeing her and holding a small roll of parchment.

She blinked. "Why, Crookshanks. I didn't know you had become an errand cat for just anyone," she teased him softly. He made a growling sound and spat the parchment at her and then stalked off. Chuckling softly, Hermione unrolled the slightly damp parchment and read, _Meet me at the willow at noon._

It wasn't signed, but she knew his handwriting as well as she knew her own. She felt a slow roll in her stomach, but it wasn't the same slide that she felt when she was afraid. This one made her tremble from head to foot with the pleasure that filled her. She resisted the urge to jump up and start getting ready immediately, and instead casually checked her Muggle watch. It read that it was only nine in the morning, and she huffed out a disappointed breath. Three whole hours to go before she could see him, she thought in disappointment.

Then she laughed softly at herself. It hadn't been too long ago that the thought of sighing over Draco Malfoy would have sent her into seizures. Now it was natural as breathing. Abruptly she remembered that she had just told Ginny that she would accompany them to Hogsmeade. She jumped up and hurried upstairs to Ginny's room. She rapped on the door then barged inside as soon as Ginny said that she could come in.

Ginny glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you okay?" she asked, amused.

Hermione attempted to compose herself, then just gave up. "I can't go with you to Hogsmeade because I'm going to meet Draco at noon."

Ginny grinned, her smile lighting up her whole face. "Well Merlin forbid you miss that. That's ok, Mione. I'm sure I can manage to amuse myself without you." She winked, and Hermione laughed.

She impetuously hugged Ginny, then dashed into her room, feeling filled with energy. With a swish of her wand, she caused the music of a waltz to float through the room. She picked up her rose and brushed it along her cheek, smiling to herself. Then she waltzed herself around the room and giggled, waiting for noon.


	15. Letters and Propositions

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns it all. I can't think of anything witty to say. ^_^

When Draco woke, he allowed himself one minute to wake up fully, then swung his legs out of bed and got in the shower, his expression grim. He'd had a letter last night from his father, and it hadn't been a particularly nice one. But then, he thought in annoyance, were they _ever _nice? Usually he would have skimmed it and thrown it away. But this one had disturbed him. The word "rumors" had immediately caught his eye, and he had stilled and read the letter fully.

__

Draco,

Several rumors have come to my attention as of late, and they disturb me greatly. I've heard of your romance with some person of rather unsavory birth, and I must insist that it cease, Draco. If it does not do so, then I will have to take drastic measures. Both against you as well as this girl. Watch yourself, Draco. It would not do for you to step out of line.

Things are accelerating in terms of our group. Soon your time will come to join, Draco, and you must be ready. Over the summer holidays we will have to make sure that you're properly trained. I suggest that you attempt to facilitate the skills that you've already been taught. And don't forget to take care of that girl. You're forsworn, Draco. Don't forget it.

Your father,

-Lucius Malfoy

Draco gritted his teeth. He wanted to know how the hell someone had found out about his relationship with Hermione. He had been sure that they had been careful so that no one would know that there was anything between them besides hate. As time progressed, he had seen the sadness deepen in Hermione's eyes, and knew that she would be all too willing to make their relationship public. But he wasn't.

The letter was only a mild warning compared to what would happen if his father found out that his pureblood son was in love with a mudblood. It was bad enough that his father even knew that they were involved. He probably thought Draco was just using Hermione to get laid. If he found out that Draco was emotionally involved with a mudblood. . . .There would be hell to pay, and Hermione would be the one paying. Draco wasn't willing to take that chance. If he couldn't protect her with anything else; he'd protect her with his silence.

He had gone to her room last night to talk to her and try to talk about what they had seen in the abandoned classroom that day. But her window had been unlatched, and through the rain-soaked glass he had seen her sprawled on the bed. She had been utterly gorgeous, a creature rising from myths and dreams instead of real life. He had stepped into the room and touched her, hardly breathing, half afraid that she wasn't real, just another figment of his heated dreams. But she had been real and soft beneath his fingertips, and arched up to meet his touch even in sleep. She had murmured his name, and it slid through him like the finest brandy.

He had undressed and climbed into the warm bed with her, and she had turned to him eagerly, her hands sliding over his cold skin and sending tendrils of fire through him. They had lain together for what seemed like hours, touching and caressing. But he hadn't taken her.

Perhaps it had been a foolish moral--the damned woman seemed to somehow instill them in him--but he hadn't finished what they had started. But it had been close. Too close. She was getting all tangled up inside him so that he wasn't sure where he ended and she began anymore. He had risen from the bed they had made and saw her lips curved in a lovely smile, and felt his heart swell within him so that he wasn't sure that his chest wouldn't break from the size of it.

He had conjured a rose for her and laid it beside her. When she had drawn him down into a sleepy kiss, his resolve had nearly broken. But he had left before he broke. Now he damned himself for it in the morning. He felt uneasy and antsy. He wanted to tie her to him so that she couldn't leave him. If nothing else, the bonds of the flesh would do that. He wanted that strong tie between them to offset the uneasiness that he felt today. He had asked her to meet him at noon, knowing that they would be virtually alone on the grounds, as everyone else would be making the trip to Hogsmeade. But there was unfinished business to be taken care of before he met her.

He stepped out of the shower, his gray eyes hard. He might have been distracted by Hermione's nagging, but he hadn't forgotten that bracelet of bruises on her wrist. _That_ he would take up with the Weasel in just a little while. He had already sent Ron an anonymous letter, asking him to meet him alone. He knew that the Weasel would respond--after all, he was so neglected, Draco thought with a sneer. Nobody ever wanted to meet just Ron, they always wanted Potter.

He dressed, then glanced at himself in the mirror. His blond hair was shaggy and unkempt, but he didn't gel it back. He knew that Hermione liked to play with it, and he liked when she did. So he left it, then went into the Slytherin common room.

Crabbe and Goyle were already there, concentrating hard on trying to play a game of chess. He glanced at the chessboard and noted in disgust that the morons had barely even moved, and yet they both seemed thoroughly stumped. "Idiots," he muttered under his breath. Blaise was sitting on a couch, his gaze faraway and his eyes glittering. Draco sighed and wondered who Blaise was planning on bothering now. Sitting beside Blaise and admiring her nails was Pansy. Draco mentally swore when Pansy's gaze narrowed on him and she rose in a leisurely movement.

"Get lost, Pansy," Draco said shortly.

She ignored him and sidled up next to him. "Draco, honey," she purred. "You haven't been to. . .visit me lately."

"Did you ever wonder why?" Draco snapped.

She laughed lightly and tip-toed her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm. "Yes, I have. And I can only think that you have some other whore that you're putting it to."

Draco felt the sweet rush of rage fill his veins. He turned his head slightly to look Pansy in the eyes, and had the vicious satisfaction of watching her take a step back, her eyes huge with fear. "You're nothing but a two-bit tramp, Pansy, and I wouldn't sleep with you even if I was paid to."

Pansy glared furiously. "You weren't so picky before!"

"That's because I was thinking with my dick, not my brain," he said shortly. "Get lost, Pansy. I don't want you anymore."

Her eyes filled with tears and her lip trembled. Draco watched her emotionlessly. "How--how can you say that?" she sniffled. "We had some good times, didn't we, Draco?"

He arched one eyebrow sardonically. "Did we, Pansy? I thought it was pretty much just fucking." He used the crudity purposefully. If it had been Hermione, she would have been hurt, and backed off. Instead it seemed only to incense Pansy more, a fact that he watched in resignation.

Pansy started to cry, but he stared at her and saw the calculation gleam in her eyes through the tears. "How can you say that?" she repeated, sobbing. "That's not true, Draco!"

"Then what would you call it?" he said cruelly." 'Making love'?" Unexpectedly, his mind flashed back to the night before. Hermione's body gilded in pale moonlight, her brown hair fanned out on her pillow. He shook those thoughts away savagely. It felt like sacrilege to remember something so beautiful when he was faced with something so sordid.

He felt his temper surge again. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Pansy," he said curtly. He strode away from her and out of the common room. Once he was gone, Pansy's tears immediately stopped, and she glared at the place where he had been.

Blaise watched her from his seat on the sofa, his eyes calculating. "Pansy," he called, and she turned to look at him. Her mood swung instantly to coy, and she fluttered her lashes at him.

"Yes, Blaise?" she cooed.

He gave her a scornful look. "I'm not interested in your services, Pansy."

She huffed. "Why, you filthy lout!"

Blaise waved that away impatiently. "Let's not rehash this, Pansy. The common room's already seen it once this morning. I have another proposition for you."

"What kind of proposition?" Pansy asked suspiciously.

Blaise's eyes started to glitter. "You've obviously been replaced in Draco's bed, haven't you, Pansy?" he said sweetly. "You'd like to get your place back, wouldn't you?"

Pansy licked her lips and stared at Blaise. "Yes," she whispered, mesmerized by the look in his eyes.

Blaise's lips curved in a cruel smile. "I think I can help you," he crooned. "If you'll help me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Yeah, it was pretty much just a fairly short, fluffy chapter. But oh well. ^_^ I swear some stuff will turn up later and actually have been important. :) It's all a big, tangled skein of drama. *winks*

****

Reviewers:

SIaSD Reader~ You amuse me. I write a blatantly OC _CAST _of characters, and the only thing that you have to offer by way of criticism is that Harry doesn't cuss?? Hell, for that matter, none of them cuss in the books. *is amused* Well...not much anyway. That potty-mouth Ron. :)


	16. Revelations

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns it all.

Ron shifted impatiently from foot to foot, wondering why he had even come. He was going to have to catch up with Ginny an Harry later in Hogsmeade, which was a nuisance. But the note had pulled at him and piqued his curiosity. Please meet me at ten o'clock, he had read. I want to talk to you. It had been unsigned, and even now he wondered who it was. Probably someone wanting to know something about Harry, Ron thought in resignation. It was _always _about Harry. Never about insignificant Ron Weasley. He ruthlessly shoved down the familiar taste of bitterness. After six years, he thought fiercely, you'd think I'd learn. But the jealousy was still there, hidden beneath layers of friendship and honest affection. He had finally realized that Harry didn't want all the publicity that he generated, but that didn't make the pill any easier to swallow.

He scuffed his shoe absently at the grass and glanced at his watch for the third time. Whoever they were, they were late, he thought irritably. He saw Draco Malfoy striding purposefully down the walkway and automatically curled his lip. Wonder what Ferret Boy's doing out here, he thought acidly.

His eyebrows snapped down into a scowl when Malfoy headed for him. When Draco got within hearing distance, Ron demanded, "What are _you _doing out here, Malfoy?"

Draco raised his head and looked at Ron, and unaccountably Ron felt a chill run down his spine. Malfoy's eyes weren't filled with typical, sneering Slytherin hate. They burned with icy, barely controlled rage.

"Well what crawled up your ass?" Ron sneered rudely. Draco grabbed Ron's shoulder with fingers that dug in like iron. "Come with me," he gritted out, hauling Ron behind the corner of a building.

Scowling furiously, Ron jerked away. "Sorry I can't have a tea-party chat with you, Ferret, but I'm waiting on someone."

"No, you're not," Draco said shortly.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "_You _sent me the letter!"

"Your brilliance astounds me on a daily basis, Weasel," Draco snarled, and slammed his fist into Ron's midsection. Ron doubled over with an agonized _oomph _and groaned piteously. Draco dragged him up, and Ron stared at him in shock. Draco's eyes were wild, the leash on his rage snapped.

"If you ever touch my woman again, I'll kill you, Weasel," he snarled. His hand came up in a hard right cross and hit Ron's cheek. Shocked, Ron took the hit and sprawled.

Draco's teeth were gritted as he methodically beat Ron. How _dare _this stupid, fat Weasel put his hands on Hermione and bruise her as he had? His eyes flashed furiously. Ron got off one good swing at Draco and caught him across the eye, making Draco's head ring. Knowing that he'd have a black eye, Draco snarled and caught Ron's eye in a mirror image of the punch that Ron had just swung at him a moment before.

"Don't--ever--touch her," Draco growled, and Ron's eyes flashed out of his bruised face.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he flared, and tackled Draco, sending them both to the ground in a scrabbling pile of flying fists and curses.

********

Humming to herself, Hermione hefted her satchel higher on her shoulder as it slid once again. She had decided that it was such a gorgeous day that she wanted to go out and sit by the willow and do her homework while she waited for Draco. She saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to look, startled. She saw the flash of black robes and briefly saw the Slytherin mark flash. She blinked, not quite sure that she had seen it. Frowning as there were grunts of pain, she hurried toward them.

She swept around the corner of the building and saw Draco had Ron pressed against the wall, his teeth bared in a feral snarl. She gasped and her satchel dropped to the ground unheeded. She jumped forward. "Draco!"

Draco's head snapped around, shock replacing fury in his eyes. "Hermione?" he said blankly. In Draco's moment of distraction, Ron snapped his arms up and broke Draco's hold, then slugged him. Draco grunted and stumbled back. When Ron would have lunged over him, Hermione jumped forward.

"Ron! What the hell are you doing?" she gasped.

He heaved, his face bloody and bruised. "What the hell am _I _doing?" he gasped, his breathing broken. "This asshole is the one that attacked _me!"_

Hermione looked at Draco, who was heaving just as strongly as Ron. "Draco?" she said softly. "Draco, please tell me you didn't."

He gave her an ill-tempered glare. "He bruised you," he muttered.

Hermione gritted her teeth. "I thought we went _over _this, Draco!"

"Yeah well, you thought wrong. He wasn't going to get away with it."

Hermione felt like pulling out her hair. The damned man was so _frustrating! _She glared at him and couldn't suppress the urge to go to him and kiss away all the bruises and cuts on his face. Instead she turned to Ron and saw that he was staring at her with his mouth gaping open, his hurts forgotten. "_You're_ his woman?" he squeaked.

Hermione shot Draco a dirty look. "Nice going, sport," she muttered sarcastically, and he gave an unrepentant shrug.

She took a deep breath and turned around to look at Ron. "Yes," she admitted baldly, and watched Ron's mouth move but without any sound, as if he were a fish.

"But--but--he's _Malfoy, _Hermione! What the hell are you thinking?"

"Don't talk to her that way," Draco snapped, coming up beside Hermione and glaring balefully at Ron.

Hermione blinked up at Draco. "But _you _talk like that to me, you oaf," she said in exasperation.

Immediately Ron stared glaring at Draco. Shocked, Hermione's gaze flitted between them and she threw up her hands furiously.

"I can't believe you're getting into a pissing match over this," she said furiously. "This is ridiculous! Draco, Ron didn't hurt me. He was trying to protect me, just like you were. Would you hesitate to put bruises on me if it kept me out of danger?"

Draco opened his mouth to respond and then hesitated. Hermione stabbed her finger at his chest, and he winced when she prodded a rising bruise. "Exactly," she proclaimed. "You're a big fat hypocrite, Draco Alfred."

Ron raised one eyebrow. "Alfred?" he echoed.

Draco winced even more. "Baby, we talked about that name," he muttered, and Hermione just glared furiously at him.

She spun on Ron and found him smirking at Draco. "And as for _you, _Ronald Weasley! There is nothing wrong with Draco except that he's stubborn and occasionally a pain in the ass. And if you can't be happy that I'm happy, then I'm ashamed of you! I know that your mother taught you better than that."

Ron hung his head and scuffed his foot in the dirt. He blinked, abruptly realizing that although Hermione sounded eerily like his mother, she wasn't his mother, so he didn't have to fear her bopping him on the head. His head shot back up and he glared at her. "You couldn't pick _anyone _else?" he snapped. "It just _had _to be him?"

"Do you think one day I just decided that I wanted to have Draco Malfoy as my boyfriend?" Hermione asked in exasperation. "I wasn't planning on it, Ronald."

"Could you not call me that?" Ron muttered. He clamped his mouth shut when she shot him a glare that made him wonder if she really _would _bop him on the head.

Hermione glared at both of them, her arms crossed militantly across her chest. "And give me one good reason why I shouldn't give you _both _detention?"

Both boys gaped at her. "You'd give us detention?" Ron sputtered as Draco said simultaneously, "Because we were fighting over _you."_

Hermione glared furiously at Draco. Damn him for knowing her so well. She wouldn't want to make such a big fuss over herself. Which meant that the two gits were safe--for now. She glared at them both. "Fine," she snapped. "I'm not going to give you detention. But I _am _pissed off at both of you."

Draco slipped one arm around her shoulders. "Aw, c'mon, honey. I'm just thinking about you."

Hermione resisted the urge to just lean against him, and instead narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. Ron grimaced. "Great Merlin, could you not do that, Malfoy? It's disgusting."

Hermione actually growled and took a threatening step forward. Ron stepped backwards, his eyes widening. Hermione looked like she wanted to throttle him. "And what does _that _mean?" she asked ominously.

"Nothing," Ron said so fast that the word almost slurred together.

Hermione sniffed and looked at both of them. She shoved down her compassionate feelings and said shortly, "C'mon. We can't send you to Madam Pomfrey. You'll get in trouble for fighting. I'll work on you as best as I can." She picked up her satchel and stalked toward the willow tree, leaving the two boys to follow her.

Once inside the relative safety of the willow, she withdrew her wand and surveyed the two men. She pointed at Draco. "You--sit there. Ron, sit right here." She made a gesture and Ron obediently sprawled out on the grass, while Draco propped himself against the trunk of the tree, watching with narrowed eyes as Hermione knelt beside Ron.

She glanced sharply at Draco. "Where did you hit him, Draco?"

Draco shrugged lazily. "Don't know. Lost count."

She gritted her teeth and looked down at Ron. "Where?" she said shortly.

He hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted her pointing her wand at him when she was aggravated as she was right now. But when she just glared balefully at him, he answered her reluctantly. "Stomach. Face."

"Yes, I can see your face," she muttered. "Lose the shirt, Weasley."

Draco sat up quickly. "I don't think so, Granger," he said curtly.

She shot him a fulminating look. "You're not in my good graces at the moment, Malfoy. I wouldn't try my patience."

"You're not my teacher, Granger," Draco snapped. "One, I don't want to see Weasley's chest, and two, neither should you."

She glared at him. "I'm not going to ogle him, Malfoy. I'm going to heal what you've busted up."

Draco glowered at her. "It's still not right," he said stubbornly, and her hand was halfway to her hair to pull on it in frustration before she stopped herself.

She took a deep breath. Merlin, the man could drive her to insanity. "Draco, Ron is going to take off his shirt so I can see his bruises. If I take him to Madam Pomfrey, you'll both get in trouble. Therefore, I am the only one who can tend to him."

Draco glared at Ron. "Let him rot, for all I care," he said rudely, and Hermione smacked his shoulder. He transferred his glare to her as he rubbed at his shoulder. "What the hell was that for?"

"Because you're being an ass," she said shortly, and then narrowed her eyes at Ron. "Shirt. Lose it."

Warily, Ron pulled his shirt off over his head. Hermione sucked in her breath when she saw his upper body. Bruises were already rising on his pale skin, and she could tell it hurt whenever he inhaled. She bit her lip, her anger momentarily forgotten. She took a deep breath, trying to remember the scant amount of healing lore that she had read about. "_Nocetis abeire_," she muttered, biting her lip and hoping that it worked.

She saw one of the bruises on Ron's ribs start to fade, and she let out a heavy breath. Ron looked up at her with wide eyes. "Were you not sure that it would work?" he asked suspiciously, and Hermione just glared down at him.

She cast the spell several more times before she started to feel the drain. Using healing magic was different than using regular magic--healing magic was taken out of the healer's body. So she was draining her own reserves dry to heal Ron's bruises. She glanced over at Draco and saw him watching her closely. She sat back on her heels, feeling weariness drag at her every muscle. "You can put your shirt back on," she said quietly, and then turned around to Draco.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice, and despite her irritation with him, Hermione felt a rush of love.

She pressed her palm to his cheek for a moment and smiled at him, then said softly, "Lose the shirt, Malfoy."

He grinned up at her and pulled off his shirt, wincing slightly. "Anything for you," he murmured, his eyes twinkling, and she smiled down at him. Unable to resist touching him, she laid her hand on his flat stomach and felt his muscles tighten beneath her hand. She bit her lip. Damn Ron's presence! But the bruises on his body made tears sting her eyes. Despite that he had been the instigator, it was hard to remember that when he was bruised and bloody.

She picked up her wand and said firmly, "_Nocetis abeire_." She saw a bruise heal over on his face and felt her hand tremble slightly before she steadied it. She cleared his face of bruises, including the black eye that spread all the way down over his right cheekbone. By the time she was done, she was trembling violently.

Her fingers clenched reflexively on her wand, and Draco sat up quickly. Her cheeks were white, and her eyes glittered too much for his liking. "Hermione?" he asked urgently. "Are you all right?"

She nodded jerkily. "Yeah, I'm okay. It just--takes it out of you," she said lamely, feeling like she was about to fall down, even though she was already on her knees.

Draco stared at her for a moment, then swiftly took her wand from her and set it aside, then laid Hermione down. He brushed her hair away from her neck and took her pulse in her throat. "Damned stubborn woman," he muttered under his breath, and saw her smile faintly up at him.

"But darling, you like me that way," she murmured, echoing his own words back to him. She saw him faintly grin down at her, then he frowned.

"Your pulse is too fast, Hermione," he murmured. "What the hell happened? One minute you were fine and now you're trembling like a leaf."

She wrapped her arms around herself and continued to shiver. Draco's eyebrows drew down into a frown and he reached out one hand and snagged his cloak and efficiently bundled her up in it. "It's just--when you do healing like that, the power comes straight out of you," she said through chattering teeth. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"Well, then you shouldn't do shit like that," Draco muttered and sat against the tree again and picked her up to sit her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head for a moment, and felt her body relax against his.

"Great Merlin," Ron said blankly. Startled, Hermione and Draco both looked at him. They had almost forgotten he was there. He had pulled on his shirt again, and was staring at them as if they were ghosts. Hermione looked at Ron in concern and started to get up, but Draco held her firmly where she was. She just glared up at him, then relaxed again. Since he obviously was going to make her stay right where she was, then she should just relax into the feeling. It felt good to be held by him.

Draco glowered at Ron. If Ron had kept his hands to himself, none of this would be happening right now. Added to that, he just didn't like the git. "What's your problem, Weasel?" Draco snapped.

Ron didn't even respond to the insult. "You're really in love," he blurted out, his tone shocked.

Hermione and Draco both stilled, freezing for a moment. Hermione tipped up her chin to look at him, and he saw the vulnerability in her eyes. He pressed a little kiss to her cheekbone right under her eye.

"Yes," he said very quietly, so that Ron barely heard him. Hermione's eyes filled with quick tears and she buried her face against his chest. Her arms went around him and held him with a strength that was belied by her delicate frame.

"I love you too," she whispered, her voice muffled by his chest. Draco closed his eyes and laid his head on top of hers and his arms tightened around her. They held each other for a long moment, then abruptly realized that Ron was still gaping at him.

Hermione turned her face toward Ron but kept her cheek against Draco. "Close your mouth, Ronald," she gently reprimanded, and Ron snapped his mouth shut.

"Why didn't you _tell _us?" he asked, baffled.

Hermione grimaced. "So you could react like you've done? No thank you, Ron."

"But, you could have at least told Ginny!" When Hermione just looked at him, Ron's shoulders slumped. "She knows already," he said in resignation.

Hermione's lips twitched. "Almost from the first," she admitted, and Ron let out a gusty sigh.

He studied Hermione and Draco again. There was an easiness between them, and an obvious affection that astounded him. He had never thought of Hermione as a woman or a sexual creature, but she seemed perfectly content to sit on Draco's lap, as if she were entirely used to it. But Draco was even more shocking. He seemed relaxed in a way that Ron had never seen. And his eyes were hot and tender whenever he looked at Hermione. He touched her with fingers that were almost reverent, as if he wasn't quite sure that she was real. Ron had never dreamed that Malfoy could feel anything like that for a woman, let alone one that was Muggle born.

Baffled, he shook his head. They were two of the most unlikely people that he had ever thought of as a couple. But they had the same spark, or the same aura around them that Harry and Ginny did. Since he had pretty much accepted in his mind that Ginny and Harry were going to get married and live happily together forever, did that mean the same was going to happen for Hermione and Draco?

He shook his head, dispelling that thought. It was too much to take in all at once. He shoved himself to his feet, grunting softly. Hermione had healed some bruises, but he knew he would be sore for most of the next week. Hermione looked up at Ron anxiously. "You can't tell anyone, Ron," she said, biting her lip and giving Ron huge puppy dog eyes.

He stared down at her and sighed. "All right, all right. I won't tell anyone. But you should tell Harry, Hermione. I don't want to keep it from him."

"I'll tell him when the time is right," Hermione insisted. "I promise you, Ron."

Ron nodded. "Ok, Mione." He gave Draco a baleful look. "Malfoy."

Draco inclined his head slightly. "Weasley," he said coldly. Ron drew his cloak around him and stalked out of the willow's branches, heading for his room and hopefully to find a bottle of liniment to ease some of the aches that were already assaulting him.

Once he was gone, Hermione looked up at Draco, his thoughts immediately snapping back to what they had been talking about before. "Did you mean it?" she whispered, her eyes wide.

Draco glared down at her. "Why wouldn't I mean it? I said it, didn't I? Did you mean it?"

"Of course!" Hermione said, shocked.

Draco sniffed. "Well I did too."

"Well good," Hermione shot back. "I wouldn't want to be going solo on this."

"Well you're not," Draco grumped. Finally he sighed and pulled her closer against him. "I meant it," he said more softly. "Very much so."

Hermione smiled up at him with a radiance that made him catch his breath. "I did too." She laid her head against the swell of his chest and closed her eyes. He smelled warm and comforting. She felt relaxed, slightly sleepy and perfectly content. Draco had his head against the trunk of the tree and his eyes closed, half asleep. The warmth of her in his arms made him content. He knew that they should talk, but he didn't want to break the enchantment that had fallen over them. When his leg startled tingling, and involuntarily jumped, Hermione looked up at him with sleepy eyes. He felt a wash of tenderness, and knew that he wasn't going to talk about last night, or about the Auror meeting they had seen. For once he was just going to lie here in the warm sunlight and let himself just be with her.

"My turn," he murmured, and saw her quick, sleepy grin. She clambered out of his lap and took his place against the trunk of the tree. He stretched out, feeling sore muscles protest. He laid his head in her lap. After a moment of silence, she began to play with his hair. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of her hands in his hair. Her fingertips stroked softly over his cheekbone. "My poor baby," she murmured. He opened his eyes to smile up at her. Then she flicked his earlobe very gently. "Serves you right for starting fights," she teased softly, and he rolled his eyes expressively.

She smiled slightly and leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Draco did the same. In no time, they were both asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Reviewers:

DreamyDracoEyes~ _Also, I think Dumbledore's a bit out of character...He doesn't seem to have the all-knowing traits that J.K. portrays, like if he were uncertain about something, you wouldn't be able to tell. _Yeah, he was supposed to seem a little uncertain. Cause if Dumbledore is acting like that, then you know its really serious. ^_^ And besides, that always annoyed me a little that he's always so sure about anything. Pfft. hehe

****

MegC~ Thank you _so _much! You really helped me out a great deal by pointing all that out to me. Some of it was on purpose, and some of it was accidental. I knew that in the books Draco wouldn't have been able to go up to the girls' dorm because of the stairway, but I deliberately 'forgot' that because it suited my purposes. ^_^

2- Calling the Bloody Baron the Red Baron was a total accident...I didn't proofread as carefully as I should have, so it slipped past me.

3-I forgot that the Slytherin dorms were--you're quite right. That was my mistake.

4- I honestly don't remember Blaise in the books. So basically I read fics that he showed up in, decided I wanted him in mine, and wrote him accordingly. So in my story he's a guy...I've even read one story where he was a hermaphrodite! It's by Superscar--Hermione Malfoy--an excellent fic if you haven't read it. ^_^ Anyhoo, so--yeah.

5-Ginny in the same classes was partly a mistake, partly on purpose. Ok, mostly a mistake. I knew she was a year younger, but I was just using her again. Sorry 'bout that. ^_^

****

Virus-Ambience~ What was the muggle device I used? The coffee machine? I was trying not to use Muggle devices, so I convinced myself that the coffee machine was magical, but I couldn't think of a way to describe it. So that was just me being a lazy writer. Sorry about that. :(

****

General A/N: Sometimes I twist parts of the books around for my own use, so if some things seem weird, that's why. Sorry if that's confusing. Mostly its because I've been a bum and haven't read the series since the summer, so I'm working off memory here except on very detailed things that I can look up quickly--like what portrait the Room of Requirement is by. ^_^ So I apologize profusely for things that are totally not plausible in the HP universe or something to that effect. And you're more than welcome to call me on it. In fact, I'm going to go fix the Bloody Baron's name right now. ^_^ Thank you all SO MUCH for reviewing! *HUGE HUGS*

****

A/N #2: I've included this song because I listened to it recently and thought that it was so perfectly applicable to the latter part of this chapter. So I've reposted this chapter to include it. ^_^

****

Watch the Wind Blow By~Tim McGraw

The creek goes ripplin' by

I been barefootin' all day with my baby

Brown leaves have started fallin'

Leadin' the way

I like it best just like this

Doin' nothin' all the way

So let's lay down in the tall grass

Dreamin' away.

And all I wanna do is let it be

and be with you and watch the wind blow by

And all I wanna see is you and me

go on forever like the clear blue sky

Slowly, there's only you and I

And all I wanna do is watch the wind blow by

Girl, you know you told me not so long ago

To let it come, then let it pass

And all your troubles and your sorrows

They won't last

So let me kiss you now little darlin'

Beneath this autumn moon

Cold winds, another season

Will be here soon.


	17. Surprise!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling. That's who it belongs to. Yup.

A/N: From this chapter on, I'm stepping up the rating to R. Because--well--Pansy gets involved, and as we've all noticed, Pansy is a little on the I'm-a-whore side. So....yeah.

Draco woke gradually. He felt warm and safe for perhaps one of the first times in his life. His father had never abused him, but Draco had never felt particularly safe in his house. There was no love lost between the pair. And his mother was no help. She was a cold, heartless woman who watched her son with emotionless eyes whenever he came into a room. He had never had a real feminine presence in his life. Even though he loved Hermione, they argued a great deal. Never in earnest, but they usually squabbled. It was part of the dynamic of their relationship. But now he felt a warm feminine presence around him, and just let himself bask in the comfort that emanated from the feeling. He could feel the warm ground at his back, and the soreness in his body. Beneath his head was a soft body, and fingers moved absently and slowly through his hair. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Hermione.

The sunlight filtered through the branches of the willow, and looking up at her as he was, it created a halo around her hair. He blinked rapidly, not quite sure of what he had seen, and the halo disappeared. Hermione smiled down at him, her eyes just as heavy-lidded as his. "Hi," she said softly, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Draco smiled up at her sleepily. "Hi," he murmured back. "Did you just wake up?"

She nodded and suppressed a yawn. "Yeah. I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful."

Draco grinned lazily. " 'Peaceful'?"

She arched one eyebrow at him. "Yup," she said wickedly. "The great Draco Malfoy actually looked 'peaceful'. That's a shocker, isn't it?"

"Quite," he drawled. He sat up and waggled his fingers at her, his eyes heavy-lidded. "C'mere. I wanna hold you."

Obligingly, she lay down beside him as he rolled onto his back. She cuddled up against him, one hand resting on his heart and her head on his shoulder. He played absently with one wayward curl of her hair, fascinated by the different shades of brown in just one curl. They were silent for long moments until Hermione spoke quietly. "That wasn't a dream last night, was it? You were really in my room."

Draco's body tightened for a moment, then he made himself relax. "No," he said softly. "It wasn't a dream." Then he said nothing more.

Hermione nibbled on her lip as she remembered. Then she asked softly, "Why did you stop?"

Draco's body tightened as if he had been prodded with an electric shock. Finally he said quietly, "You were half asleep. I didn't want your first time to be like that. I want you awake." He said it in an amused voice, but she sensed the intensity vibrating in his words.

Hermione tilted up her chin to study his impassive face. She pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I love you very much," she said simply, and his arm tightened around her.

"I love you too," he said, his voice sounding slightly choked. "I don't know why. I shouldn't."

Hermione stayed pliant in his arms instead of stiffening up as he had feared. "Why shouldn't you?" she asked him, her voice tranquil.

He hesitated, not wanting to worry her about his father's nebulous threats. So he told her a half truth. "Because you're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin, honey. It's almost unheard of."

He felt her wilt slightly, and bit his tongue. He hated to make her unhappy, but he'd rather have her unhappy than burdened with his problems. "Yes," Hermione said sadly. "I suppose it is." Then she fell silent.

"Are you going to tell Potter?" Draco asked her softly. "Do you want me to be there?"

Hermione shook her head against his chest, burrowing a little closer to him. " Yes I'm going to tell him, and no, you can't be there. It will be bad enough when he finds out that you beat up Ron." She poked him in the ribs for that bit of stupidity and he grunted and fended off her offending finger.

"Stop poking me," he grumped. "I'm not going to apologize for it, Hermione. I did what I needed to do."

Hermione sighed in resignation. "We've already been over it, Draco. He was trying to keep me from going out alone."

"Which, I might add, was not one of your brighter moments," Draco growled, shaking her slightly.

She grumbled beneath her breath, but had to mentally agree. Going out alone without her wand hadn't been smart. But she'd had to prove to herself that she could do it. Stubborn witch that she was, Hermione thought ruefully, she could no less. She absently traced figures on Draco's chest. "What do you think those objects are that Dumbledore was talking about?"

Draco stilled and his hand clenched in her hair. "Something that you're not going to attempt to retrieve, I know that much," he said shortly. "So you can get that idea out of your head right this second, Hermione Elizabeth."

She grimaced. "I _wasn't _thinking about that." He craned his neck to give her a scornful look.

"Don't try to bullshit me, Hermione. I know what you were thinking."

She muttered and grumbled, but finally sighed. "Fine, fine. You're right, in any event. If Dumbledore can't even get them, then I certainly can't. So there's no point in me venturing into the Forbidden Forest, potentially running into Deatheaters and the like."

Draco narrowed his eyes at me. "Promise me that you won't go looking for them," he said quietly, his eyes intent.

Hermione hesitated, and Draco's eyes sharpened. "Promise me," he said sharply.

She sighed gustily. "Fine, fine, I promise," she said testily. "Happy now?"

He relaxed by degrees. "Slightly," he muttered. "I know you won't break your promise. You're too much of a Gryffindor."

She sniffed indignantly but didn't respond to that. "I wonder if Bill is still here," she said softly. "I'd like to talk to him. He looked really broken, Draco."

Personally Draco didn't give much of a damn about any of the Weasleys. Ginny was tolerable, mostly because she was a woman, had a speck of sense--unlike her brothers--and was Hermione's best friend. If he had to be in a room with any of the Weasley brothers for more than a hour he'd gladly _avada kedavra _himself. Ginny he could tolerate. But he knew that even though he didn't care about the Weasleys or Potter, Hermione did. So he bit his tongue and just nodded.

Hermione nibbled absently on her lip, barely noticing Draco's reticence. "I want to know what happened, Draco. Especially with those two Aurors that died. Cassie and Kevin? Was that their names?"

Draco nodded again, considering it. He hadn't heard anything from his father about any movements in the Deatheater forces. Maybe this had just been a group of rogue Deatheaters. He mused on that for a moment, then dismissed it. If some Deatheaters had gone rogue, they would be terrorizing Muggles, not trying to get closer to Hogwarts. Besides, rogue Deatheaters didn't last long, unless they were very canny spies. Voldemort didn't tolerate disloyalty.

Draco mentally mulled over the problem, barely noticing that Hermione was still basically talking to herself, figuring out the problem in her own way. He listened to her briefly:

"---I wonder what the objects could be? And I wonder how many Deatheaters were there? Maybe they wanted---"

He tuned her out and considered the problem himself. Although Hermione was an extremely smart and courageous witch, her rose-colored glasses were still firmly seated on her nose, although a little cracked. Draco had no such difficulty. He knew perfectly well that Voldemort would sacrifice hordes of Deatheaters if it gained him something he wanted.

So what, Draco mused, did Voldemort want?

_Potter, _was the immediate response. _Those objects in the Forbidden Forest_. That was, if Voldemort even knew of their existence. But since Dumbledore seemed oddly convinced that Voldemort was aware of these objects, then Draco concluded that he did indeed know where they were, or at least that they were in the Forest. The question was, did Voldemort think he had the strength to try to retrieve them? Or the reserves of Deatheaters to try to wear down the wards? Draco frowned, remembering that comment of Dumbledore's. Dumbledore had mentioned trying to wear down the wards, but that wasn't a common technique used to try to break wards that were raised around something, particularly something as powerful as these objects were supposed to be. So how did Dumbledore know that it was even possible to wear down the wards?

That thought raised a bevy of other conflicting thoughts. Dumbledore was obviously familiar with these objects. And he said that they were things of great power. Which meant that they had probably been documented _somewhere. _If Draco and Hermione wanted to know about them, they'd have to do research. Draco inwardly grimaced. Research was more of Hermione's area than his. He perked up at the thought, then grinned to himself. He'd just get her to do it.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she looked up at him with solemn eyes. "We're going to have to do research," she announced. "The objects will be talked about in books if they're so all-powerful. So we'll have to go to the library."

_Dammit, _Draco sighed. _Foiled again_. When Hermione started to get up, obviously ready to head for the library right then, Draco pulled her back down. "C'mon, Hermione. We can do it later," he said persuasively. "Let's just stay here for a while."

Hermione hesitated, torn between the desire for knowledge and the desire to stay close with Draco. Finally she sighed and sank back down beside him. "You know, you're a real pain in the ass," she muttered as she settled back into the crook of his arm. He grinned crookedly at her and twirled one curl of her hair around her finger.

"I know," he said cheerfully. "What time is it? We want to make sure that we're gone before everyone returns from Hogsmeade."

Hermione glanced at her watch, which was blinking 'Two minus one equals. . .' Hermione glared at the watch. She hated math. Her parents had given her the watch in second year in the only time that they had ventured into Diagon Alley. The stupid watch just involved too much math for her on a daily basis. "It's one o' clock," she muttered, lowering her wrist.

Draco nodded. "Tell me about Muggles," he said impulsively, and Hermione gaped up at him.

"I beg your pardon?" she sputtered.

He glared down at her and sniffed indignantly. "It's not _that _shocking, Granger. After all, I'm dating a witch who's Muggle-born."

Hermione blinked up at him with huge eyes. "But--Draco--you don't like Muggles."

"My father doesn't like Muggles," he corrected her. "I don't much care for them either, but then I haven't really been exposed to any. But from what I've heard they're filthy creatures." He said the last with all the pomp and arrogance that only pureblood wizards could achieve.

Hermione glared at him and hit him. He grunted, rubbing at his sore ribs. "What was that for?" he muttered.

"For saying something like that! My parents are Muggles and they are not filthy creatures, Draco Malfoy!"

"All right, all right," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Your parents aren't filthy creatures," he said dutifully. "Are you happy now?"

She glared at him suspiciously and at his gentle tug settled back into the curve of his arm. "Well, since you feel that way I feel like it's my duty to educate you," she said loftily. Draco rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. She was so adorable when she was irritated.

She opened her mouth, then hesitated, not quite sure where to begin. The Muggle world was so vast and different from the wizarding world. It was like trying to explain a rainbow to a blind man. Eventually she brightened. "I know! I can just show you!"

Draco arched his eyebrows. "How are you going to do that? We can't leave Hogwarts."

"That's okay," she said with a mischievous grin. "We'll just go to my room. I have some Muggle things there."

As Hermione bounced to her feet and brushed herself off, Draco smiled wickedly. So they were going to her room, were they? He rose more slowly and picked up her satchel and slung it over his shoulder, his eyes glittering with all his familiar Slytherin devilish glee. Hermione glanced around for her satchel and saw that Draco already had it. She smiled and kissed his cheek for his thoughtfulness. It always surprised Draco how easy she was to please. The smallest things made her unbelievably happy. He loved to surprise her, to do things that she liked just to see the way that her eyes lit for him.

Hermione emerged from the shield of the willow branches and glanced around. The grounds were deserted, but she started walking purposefully toward the castle anyway. Draco followed a moment later, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking deep in thought. Once inside the castle, they maintained a careful distance; Draco about ten feet behind her. Once they got to the Fat Lady painting, the Fat Lady sniffed at them. "So it's you two again."

"Yes," Hermione said politely. "The password is bloomsbury buggies."

The Fat Lady looked slightly mollified and swung open at a stately pace. Hermione went inside and peered into the common room. It was completely deserted, so she ushered in Draco. She grabbed his hand and dashed up to her room, giggling. Even Draco was grinning, unable to resist her boundless enthusiasm as they dashed up the stairs and into her room. She closed the door behind them and locked it. Didn't want Ginny walking in on something inappropriate, Hermione thought mischievously. She was a prefect, after all. Had to set an example. The thought made her grin.

Draco glanced around her room. It was meticulously neat except for the bed, which was in the same disarray as his had been when she left it. Her large bay windows were spreading light throughout the room. She had a whole bookcase in her room filled with books. There were piles of books beside it, as she had run out of space in the bookcase itself. Against one wall was her long dresser, on which she had her girly things. Fascinated by them--he had never seen feminine things--he walked over to it and lightly touched a perfume bottle with his fingertips. He lifted his fingers to his face and smelled her scent on his skin.

"So this is why you smell so good all the time," Draco murmured, not glancing at her.

"I suppose so," Hermione said softly, watching him as he looked at her all her things. Tears wanted to come, but she pushed them away. He was so out of place in her room. Despite that there were no flounces or lace, the room had an undeniable aura of femininity. And he was very definitely masculine. But he fit somehow. He fit with her. Who would have thought? she thought sadly, tears welling in her eyes again. She swiped at them impatiently and watched as he touched gentle fingers to a picture of her with her parents. She was laughing in the picture, her eyes sparkling and her teeth bared in a huge grin. She couldn't have been more than six, with the same deep brown eyes and same mouth that was quick to smile, even then.

"You were cute," Draco said softly, his mouth curving in a small smile. Behind his back, Hermione swiped away another stray tear.

_Look at me_, she thought with a rueful sigh. As bad as a watering pot and he did nothing except look at me in a picture when I was little. You've got it bad. But when Draco turned to look at her, her eyes were dry, and she was smiling at him. Draco felt his throat clutch a little when he saw her.

She was illuminated in a pool of warm sunlight, and her smile was lovely. Her eyes shone. She held out her arms to him, and he walked toward her and put his around her. He felt her hands move against his back, and he buried his face against her throat. Her hands tangled in the strap of the satchel that he was still wearing, and she drew away. "Here," she said softly. "Let's take this off." He stood passively as she pulled the satchel off and laid it on the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. He just looked down at her, and his thumb brushed over her cheek.

She reached out and laid trembling fingertips against the top button on his shirt. He felt his breath break, and he stood silently as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She took a deep, steadying breath as all the buttons came undone, and slowly pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall unheeded to the floor.

She licked her lips as he was bared from the waist up. She touched soft fingertips to the defined muscles in his stomach and felt them ripple beneath her touch. A giddy thrill went through her as evidence of her power over him swept through her. She brushed her hands up along his chest and over his strong shoulders, reveling in her power to touch him as she chose. He watched her with eyes that burned, but didn't touch her. Her fingers slid over his neck and tangled in his hair for a moment.

"You're beautiful," she said softly, raising her gaze to meet his.

He laughed harshly. "You've got that mixed up, love. You're the beautiful one here."

Mesmerized, Hermione shook her head slowly as she touched him and felt his tension wind tighter and tighter with each brush of her fingers. "No," she said, warmth spreading through her. "You're beautiful. The way mountains are beautiful. The way the sunrise is beautiful."

His hands went to her hips abruptly, as if he couldn't stop himself from touching her anymore. He stared down at her as she looked up at him. "May I?" he asked her very softly, and she nodded, still looking up at his face.

His slid his hands beneath her shirt and felt her stomach quiver as his hands brushed over it. He drew the shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing more than her pants and bra. Her body gleamed in the warm sunlight and gold gilded her skin. She stepped up against him and her arms went around him, her hands moving slowly over his bare back. He pressed a kiss to the junction of her shoulder and neck and felt her shiver in his arms.

Draco felt almost dizzy. He had never experienced something like this before. His time with Pansy had been heartless and cold. He had walked away from screwing Pansy and not felt anything. In the beginning with Hermione, she had already been worming her way into his heart, so it hadn't been like that. But he hadn't cared about her as much as he did now. Even last night had been different. That had been almost surreal, like a dream. Now it was broad daylight, and she was completely awake. When she looked at him, he felt ten feet tall and like he could take on the world. He had barely touched her, yet it felt almost unbearably intimate. He had never felt closer to another person in his whole life as he did right now to Hermione Granger.

He brushed his knuckles over the swell of her breast and felt her tremble before she locked her knees. He smiled down at her, his eyes as warm as a liquid sea of mercury. "Don't want you falling now, love," he murmured, and laid her on the wrinkled bed.

He stood there a moment to admire her. She lay sprawled on the bed as if she were a pagan sacrifice. The virgin sacrifice to the dragon, he thought dryly before he shoved away those thoughts. He crawled up on the bed and stretched out beside her. She looked up at him with eyes that held a touch of apprehension. "Draco--" she whispered. "I'm a little scared."

"Don't be scared," he whispered, his eyes gleaming. "I'd never hurt you, Hermione. I swear it on my life."

"Promise it," she said suddenly, her voice fierce. She gripped his fingers with odd intensity. He blinked, startled at her change of mood, then nodded slowly. "I promise it," he said quietly. She relaxed against the bed again and looked up at him with complete trust in her eyes.

"Touch me," she said softly. "Please."

He sucked in his breath, feeling his heart hammer wildly. But despite the turmoil inside him, his fingers were gentle as they skimmed over her skin that had been warmed by the sunlight. He locked down the things that he wanted and his body clamored for. She wasn't ready for those things. This time was completely for her. To show her how much he loved her. If he couldn't express the multitude of feelings inside him adequately in words, perhaps this would illustrate them. She unbuttoned her pants herself and threw them away, then did the same with his.

He skimmed a fingertip lightly along the inside of her thigh and felt her body tremble violently. He stopped and glanced up at her. "Feel good?" he said softly, and saw her bite her lip.

"Yes," she said, her voice a little strangled. "Yes, good."

He smiled to himself and pressed light kisses to her belly and moved his way up. She twisted beneath his ministrations, her breath coming more quickly. When he finally slipped into her what seemed like hours later, she gasped as pain seized her. Her fingers dug into his back and tears sprang to her eyes.

Draco pressed kisses to her face and resisted the urge to move. His muscles trembled before he locked them. _Don't move, don't move_, he chanted to himself, frantically trying to remember his multiplication tables. Anything to keep from losing control. Finally he saw her ease, although there was an odd look on her face. "Are you okay?" he gasped out, trembling from head to foot with strain.

"Yes," she said, blinking up at him. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Thank Merlin," he muttered in relief, and moved within her. She arched her back with a cry and clutched at him. When the end finally came for both of them, he collapsed on top of her in exhaustion. They lay in silence for long minutes before Hermione pressed a gentle kiss to Draco's throat.

"You're a wonderful man," she said softly.

He muttered unintelligibly against her neck. Smiling to herself, Hermione wrapped her arms more tightly around him, tears of joy standing in her eyes. Mixed with the joy was a little sadness. She wasn't a virgin anymore. She had given herself completely to Draco in every way that she knew how. She had given herself--body, heart and soul. He held her life in his hands, whether or not he knew it. She just hoped that he was careful with it.

Finally Draco stirred and raised on his elbows to look down at her. "Are you okay?" he asked her, his voice rough, and she kissed him tenderly.

"Yes, darling," she said quietly. "I'm very okay." Then she smiled beatifically at him. His jaw tightened and he kissed her. She tasted desperation in his kiss and held him close, responding to him with everything that she had in her.

He drew away from her, his eyes hard and intent. "Marry me," he grated out.

Hermione gaped up at him, her mouth swollen. "What?" she gasped.

"Marry me," he repeated. "_Merlin, _marry me, Hermione. I don't know how to live without you."

Hermione stared at him and then burst into tears. He blinked down at her, then glared. "Well is being my wife so bad?" he huffed. He stood it another minute, then sighed in defeat and cradled her close. "I'm sorry, darling," he crooned. "Don't cry, don't cry. I understand--you don't want to marry me right now. It's okay. Don't cry."

"It's not that," she sobbed. "I want to be your wife. But--but Draco, what about your father? He hates me. He hates Muggle-borns. What will he do?"

"Damn my father," Draco snarled. "I'm not going to let him live my life for me."

Hermione looked up at him, biting her lip. "But Draco--everyone will know. You didn't want anyone to know."

Draco looked down at her, her cheeks still flushed from their loving, and felt like he would drown with his love for her. "I don't care," he said softly. "I don't give a damn. I never did."

Hermione blinked up at him, startled. "But--you didn't want anyone to know! Even when I suggested going public, you didn't want to!"

Draco shrugged restlessly, unwilling to tell her the circumstances that had prevented their relationship from becoming public. "I don't care anymore," he admitted. "I want you in my life, Hermione."

Hermione's mouth trembled once as she laid her palm against his cheek. "You don't have to offer marriage to have that, Draco," she said softly. "You have me for as long as you want me."

His eyes burned down at her and he swallowed down the lump in his throat. He was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Slytherins didn't cry. Instead he pressed a feverish kiss to her lips, then withdrew almost immediately. "My father is not an issue," he told her firmly. "This is between you and me. That's it. Now tell me, Hermione Elizabeth Granger-- will you be my wife?" His voice was soft, and she could have listened to it forever.

She smiled up at him, tears glittering in the depths of her eyes. "Yes," she said simply. His face split into a grin and he swooped down to hold her possessively close.

He looked down at her with sober eyes. "I won't be an easy husband," he admitted. "I'm a pain in the ass and set in my ways a great deal of the time."

Hermione's mouth quirked in a smile. "You think I don't know that?" she teased. "You're not telling me anything new."

He made a face down at her and continued. "I'm possessive and overprotective. It bothers me to see you around Potter and Weasley."

Hermione sobered immediately and laid one hand on his and curled her fingers around his. "Draco, you have nothing to worry about. But they're my friends. Don't make me give them up." She looked up at him with beseeching eyes, and he swore softly and raked his hand through his hair, making it stand on end.

"You're bad for my willpower," he muttered, and she smiled and pressed a kiss to his fingers.

"No, I'm good for your bad habits," she corrected him, and he made a face.

"Well see about that," he muttered grumpily. He looked down at her with steady eyes. "No one can know about it until it's done," he said quietly. "Not even Ginny. I don't want my father to have a chance to sabotage it. Once it's done, it's done. There's nothing he'll be able to do about it. So no one can know, Mione."

Hermione sighed heavily. "More secrecy?" she asked sadly. "When will I be able to walk down the hall and hold your hand, Draco, and not worry about anyone seeing?"

"I'm sorry, baby," Draco said apologetically, sighing. "But that's the way that it has to be. I don't want to take chances with you."

She looked up at him with clear eyes. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm helpless, Draco," she said steadily. "I can take care of myself."

"I don't think you're helpless," he denied hotly.

She just smiled and didn't respond. Then she drew his head down to her for a kiss. "Enough of this talking," she said with a serene smile. "We're engaged. I just want to lie here with you."

Draco quirked one eyebrow at her. "_Just _lie here?" he said, grinning, and she grinned back at him with perfect accord.

"For now," she said, winking. "But I make no promises about later."

Draco laughed delightedly and then lay down beside her and drew her against his shoulder, feeling an empty space in his heart fill.


	18. Planning and Execution

A/N: I recently skimmed Sorcerer's Stone and found that Blaise's last name is spelled 'Zabini' instead of 'Zambini'. However, for the sake of not confusing anyone--including myself--he will remain spelled as Zambini. I apologize for this, and firmly blame it on myself for not reading the books before attempting to write. *bows* Thank you all, and don't forget to tip your waiters. *winks*

A/N #2: Several people have asked me about my idea of what Blaise looks like, and if you can manage to get through the assortment of replies to reviews, then it's in there. But if you don't want to read all my responses, then you can just skip to the response to Chernir. :D

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione watched as Draco walked back to the dungeons, her heart too full for words. That lovely man was all hers, and always would be. She resisted the urge to go singing through the hallways. She felt like she could fly up to the moon without aid of a broom. Most of all she desperately wanted to tell Ginny. But Draco had asked her not to, and she understood his logic and found it sound. His father was a very real threat that she shouldn't forget.

Just the thought of his father made her mouth curve downward. His father constantly put Draco's life in turmoil, and therefore hers. She could only imagine what would happen when Lucius found out that his only son and heir had married a Muggle-born. Hell would be like a mild summer retreat. At the thought, Hermione shivered as she walked back up the steps to her room. She stepped into the shower and let the hot water beat down on her.

Despite her worries about Lucius Malfoy, she couldn't contain her happiness for long. She closed her eyes and could see years of life with Draco. Towheaded children playing in the yard, a daughter sitting beneath a tree reading a book. Harry and a very pregnant Ginny arriving at the house that Hermione and Draco would share with their children. Hermione pregnant, Draco's hand smoothing over the swell of her belly as he gently kissed her. Growing old with him. Watching their children grow up.

It wasn't until Hermione heard her own sob echo off the walls that she realized she was crying.

*****

Draco felt jubilant as he stepped into the Slytherin common room. He had to force himself not to bound across the room. Pansy was sulking in the corner, a fact that he barely noticed. Blaise was playing chess with himself and appeared to be deep in thought. Crabbe and Goyle were bickering over the last piece of toast. Draco bounded up the steps to his room and shed his clothes and got into the shower, grinning widely.

_She had said yes! _He could hardly believe it. He was going to marry her! That gorgeous, brilliant woman was going to be his. He wanted to marry her right this minute. That thought prompted something that made him scowl. Were they going to have their own quarters as a married couple? Or was he going to have to keep sneaking into the Gryffindor common room to be with her? The thought was enough to sour his stomach. Then he remembered feeling his fist connect with Ron Weasley's stomach, and he grinned again. He almost sang as he finished his shower.

*****

Pansy glared out the window. She hadn't had a good time in Hogsmeade this weekend, which was unusual. Usually she would have loved to go trying on dresses and generally spending her parents' money. But she had been troubled and thoughtful about the proposition that Blaise had set before her. She had never thought of Blaise as a cunning man before this. She had always just seen him as another one Draco's cronies. But Blaise had definitely shown himself to be a top caliber planner with this scheme. She would have agreed on the spot except for one little thing.

She would have to seduce a Gryffindor.

The thought was disgusting. Pansy wasn't discriminating, usually, but she usually held to her own kind. Which was why most of Slytherin house had been in her bed at one point or another. Including some girls. Which only added fuel to the fire. Pansy was a born manipulator. She loved to collect secrets and then keep them--for a price. Girls that came to her to relieve needs that they were confused about often had to pay for their weakness. Pansy held them in the palm of her hand. If they didn't do what she wanted them to do, then she would reveal their secret. They were much like pawns in chess, Pansy mused as she traced a pattern on the window. The thought didn't disturb her. The more pawns she had, the greater her chance of winning whatever game she was playing at the moment. And for the moment, she was considering playing Blaise's game.

It wasn't as if she were adverse to the idea of taking down Hermione Granger. That little mudblood bitch had been a pain in Pansy's side since first year. Had been in a pain in _everyone's _side since first year. If there was a curve in a class, Hermione broke it. Little Miss Know-it-All Granger. It was enough to make Pansy puke. And now there were rumors flying through Slytherin that Draco had found himself a girl. Meanwhile she had heard rumors through her little pawns that there were also strange going-ons with Hermione Granger as well.

The coincidence was too much for Pansy's taste. She might have been a whore, but she wasn't stupid. And if there was ever a man that she claimed as hers, it was Draco Malfoy. So she considered it a personal affront if some uppity mudblood thought that she could move in on Pansy Parkinson's territory. It wouldn't be tolerated. But Pansy considered herself to be above brawling over a man, no matter how much she wanted him. So she would have to use more subtle means. And Blaise was perfect. She was perfectly aware that Blaise thought that he would use her for his own ends. But she could use him for hers.

Smiling to herself, Pansy glanced over at Blaise and saw him staring intently at a chessboard. "Blaise?" she called sweetly. "Could you come here for a minute?"

"Get your fat ass up and come over here," Blaise said shortly, not moving his gaze.

Pansy huffed and ground her teeth. If she hadn't had a use for him, Blaise would be crawling on the floor looking for his dick right about now. Pansy Parkinson didn't take shit from anyone. Most were too scared of her personally. The ones that weren't smart enough to fear her, feared her parents. They were powerful purebloods, and Deatheaters besides. Pansy hesitated, not wanting to just give into him so easily. But eventually she rose from her seat, her teeth grinding together in aggravation. She sat beside him, and Blaise said irritably, "You're in my light, Pansy. Could you move?"

Pansy's hands fisted and she resisted the urge to rip him bald. _Everywhere. _"Blaise," she said sweetly, "I've thought about your offer, and I've decided to take you up on it."

That finally got his attention. He glanced up at her briefly, then returned his gaze to the chessboard. "Excellent. I've seen your devious little mind at work, Parkinson. What are you planning?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes. The little bastard was more astute than she had taken him for. Perhaps they had both misjudged each other. Finally she said grudgingly, "I was thinking about rats in the bed, snakes. . .the like."

Blaise tsked softly as he moved his knight. "You think too small, Pansy," he chided gently. "Think on a larger scale, and tell me what you think of."

Pansy blinked. Despite her years as a bully, she didn't have a real talent for looking at the larger picture. She blanked. "I don't know, Zambini. What are _you _thinking of?"

Blaise studied the chessboard and then moved one of his pawns to the left. "What the thing that Hermione is most renowned for?"

"Being smart," Pansy said promptly.

Blaise's mouth curved in a cruel smile. "Exactly. So obviously it means a great deal to her. Well what happens if that's taken away from her?"

Pansy frowned. "How can we stop her from being smart, Zambini?"

Blaise smiled. "We don't have to. It's not what's in her head that we have to change, Parkinson. It's what she produces in the way of being smart. What if little Miss Know-it-All was a cheater?"

Pansy stared at him, then her lips curled. "Well, well, Zambini," she purred. "I must say that I'm impressed. I never would have thought of it. How are you planning to pull it off?"

"By planting things in her room. All you need to do is to get into the Gryffindor tower."

Pansy smiled. "And I'm to do this by seducing some hapless Gryffindor?"

"Quite," Zambini said absently, pondering his next move.

Pansy tapped her lower lip, pondering the crop of eligible Gryffindors. She immediately crossed out both Potter and Weasley. Not only could she not stomach to touch either one of them, but both of them hated her. They wouldn't be susceptible to her charms. Finally a face swam into her mind's eye, and she smiled cattily. _Sean Benedict, _she thought, her lips curving coldly. He was average enough to where he would be flattered by her interest in him, and hotheaded enough to where he would succumb and do exactly as she wanted.

She tapped her lip thoughtfully, and was interrupted by Blaise's voice. "And don't think that just one blowjob in a closet is going to work, Pansy. This will require a little more effort on your part."

Pansy arched one eyebrow coldly at Blaise. "The way that I work is none of your business, Zambini."

"It is when you're working with me," Blaise told her calmly, making another move. "You'll do it my way, Pansy, or I'll cut you out."

"You need me, Zambini," Pansy snapped at him, anger bubbling. "You can't cut me out."

He gave her a scornful look. "Girls like you are a dime a dozen, Pansy. Maybe they're not as quick to hand their favors out, but I can use one of them just as easily."

Pansy fumed. Damn the man. On the one hand she despised him for using her and talking to her the way he did. On the other hand, she respected him for his cold-blooded ruthlessness. Zambini knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it, and no one would get in his way. Which led to another thought. "Why are you doing this, Zambini?" she demanded. "What's in it for you?"

He glanced over at her coolly. "I don't owe you any answers, Pansy."

"Indulge me," she purred, her voice dangerous and her eyes glittering. Blaise gave her a wary look and finally said, "Malfoy could be great. He could be the heir of Slytherin, the way that everyone was sure he was in second year. But that stupid mudblood bitch is dragging him down into the mud with her."

"So you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Pansy asked sarcastically, and Blaise shot her a scornful look.

"Of course not. I'm a Slytherin, not a bleeding heart Gryffindor. He'll thank me once it's done, and then I'll have a coveted seat at his side when he comes into his full power."

Pansy licked her lips, feeling warmth spread through her. Power was an aphrodisiac to her. It was what powered her life. She wanted power, and used it for her own ends. She closed her eyes and imagined Draco as the next Dark Lord. If Blaise would be at his side as a trusted follower, Pansy would be in his bed as his wife. Her lips curved slowly, and she opened her eyes. Blaise watched her with chilling eyes. Then he moved a piece.

"Checkmate," he said softly.

*****

The next day, using her snitches, Pansy found out where Sean Benedict's first class was. Scanning his schedule rapidly, she smiled grimly. He had History of Magic with her. The poor fool was done for. She walked into History of Magic and saw that most of the class was already asleep, although class hadn't even begun. Professor Binns was painfully oblivious, muttering and babbling to himself at the front of the class. Instead of taking her usual seat beside Milicent Bulstrode, Pansy slid into a seat beside Sean. He glanced at her, startled, and blinked when he saw that her eyes were heavy-lidded when she looked at him. He stared at her for a moment, mesmerized by her. Then he tore his gaze away, a blush heating his cheeks. Pansy suppressed her smirk. Oh, he was going to be so much easier than she had thought.

Smiling slightly to herself, Pansy serenely turned her gaze to Professor Binns as the door shut and class began. She noted that he kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, and her satisfaction deepened. Oh yes, she had chosen _very _well. She kept her gaze turned to the front of the room, but beneath the table her hand slid over and laid itself on his knee. She felt him jump beneath the touch and his head snap around to stare at her. Her mouth quirked on one side as he quickly turned his gaze back to the front of the room. She could feel him vibrating with tension beneath her hand, wondering what she would do.

She moved her index finger in lazy circles on his knee, then moved her hand a little higher and did the same thing. She wound him tighter and tighter throughout the class until Professor Binns finally dismissed them. He nearly lunged to his feet, trembling violently. Without a word, he rushed out of the class, heading for the Gryffindor tower at a near run. Pansy rose more sedately, her mouth curled in a Cheshire cat smile. She watched him go in satisfaction. "Dream of me, little Gryffindor," she murmured, her eyes gleaming. "And then come crawling back for more."

Then she strolled off to her next class, humming to herself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Reviewers:

(I have a lot of response because I've been slacking off on replying to y'all. *blushes*)

****

ChRiSTiZ~ WOW. Your review was very nice and very...comprehensive. ^_^ Which isn't a bad thing, actually. It just startled me a bit--in a good way. :) Now let's see, on to replying to what you said. :D I'm really glad you liked it, and you're right--there are a great deal of _really _sucky fics out there, so I always get really excited when I come across a good one. ^_^ So I'm glad that I could provide such a service. *touches cap* 

I try to update fairly quickly, because it annoys me when I get into a story and the person doesn't update for weeks or months. Just drives me bonkers. And besides, it doesn't take me very long to write a chapter--it's just my damned contrary muse that's occasionally the problem, which is the only reason that I don't update every day. :) 

About Draco calling Hermione 'love'--that's **_exactly _**what I think of every time I write it!! *laughs, then sighs* Spike is so lovely. He is my squishy, and he must be mine. *winks* And now he's on Angel. *cries* 

I am _SO_ glad that everyone has liked the lovemaking scene so far-- it was hard for me to write without going into needless and lurid detail, and I also like lovemaking scenes that leave a little to the imagination. ^_^ So I'm glad that it went over well with everyone. 

I honestly don't know how many chapters this will end up being. I have a set game-plan in my head of how the plot is going to go--just basically a sketch of what's going to happen. Then however many chapters it takes to fill it out into something resembling a story. *grins* So however long that takes me. *laughs* 

And no, your review didn't bore me. I liked it. ^_^ A bit difficult to read because silly FF.net doesn't let us break it up into paragraphs or whatnot in reviews, but that's FF.net's fault, and not yours, my dear. ^_^ So review away....and look! My response turned out to be almost as long as your review. *laughs*

****

Silver Kisses~ Thanks! I _personally _agree with you--that it gets better and better--but that's because I already know what happens. *winks* I want to post all the chapters to the rest of it up here because I want everyone to know what happens, but since I haven't written them yet, that's a bit difficult to do. ^_^ So you'll just have to wait, my dears. *winks*

****

Natyslacks~ Wasn't that so romantic? *sniffles* I swear--I got teary when I wrote it, which is a little sad. *laughs* Wait, now I sound silly. Does it sound weird that I'm talking about my story as if someone else wrote it? *grins* Ah well. Hermione and Draco make me sniffle. *pulls out her hanky and dabs eyes*

****

Chernir~ I didn't know that Blaise was heavy. *blinks* Do you know where they give a description of him, or when he shows up in the books? I'm making a very, very slow effort to try to read all them again, but that damned slave driver School is interfering, so I've only skimmed over Sorcerer's Stone and not read it in depth the way I want to. And I remember that he's briefly mentioned in S.S. but only his name when he's Sorted into Slytherin. So any pointers on where he shows up would rock. Personally--since I had no description to work with--I imagined him as slim, a little like the way Tom Riddle was in Chamber (the movie), but with a harder and more angular face. Hollowed cheekbones, very dark, brooding eyes with dark hair. So there's my imagination's view of Blaise, for all of y'all who were curious of my interpretation of him. ^_^ I hope that helps when you're reading it. :)

****

One-Soul-Joy18~ Yeah, I'm hoping that Harry will be more understanding than Ron. I agree, I'm not too fond of Ron. He usually ends up turning out as a rotten character in fanfics, but since I'm not a fan of him even in the real books, I'm not apt to change that. *smiles angelically*

****

Merryday~ Wow! Thank you very much!

****

SheDraconis~ *blinks* There are _groups? _Honest?? I'd love to find some, but I have no idea where to look. ^_^ If you could point me, I'd be much obliged. ^_^ And bravo for reading 17 chapters in a row, that's quite a feat! :) 

And thank you everyone else for reviewing!! I love you all...

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

__

Disclaimer: All things here belong to J.K. Rowling except things that belong to me. ^_^


	19. Confessions of a Bride to be

Hermione gnawed anxiously on her lower lip and for once in her life ignored the professor that was speaking. A week ago Draco had asked her to marry him. When he had said the words, she had felt her heart stop and then slam against her ribs. All she could imagine was the wonderful things that would come with being Draco's wife. A life with him. Their children. A home filled with laughter and love. But now that time had passed, all the problems with their marriage seemed to be crowding in on her, gnawing away at her.

His father was foremost in her mind. Although Draco had told her not to worry about Lucius Malfoy, she rarely listened to him anyway and had no intention of starting now. Whether Draco wanted to face the fact or not, Lucius was a Deatheater. Deatheaters by definition had a grudge against Muggles and Muggle-borns. How would he take the news that his son had married one? Hermione cringed at the thought. Although she wasn't too keen on the idea of going head-to-head with Malfoy Senior herself, she didn't want Draco going home to his father's wrath on her behalf either.

With dawning grief, she realized that although she would legally and emotionally be Draco's wife, she wouldn't be able to publicly admit it. Their relationship would have to stay private and a secret. It's not like it will be for much longer, Hermione thought bitterly. The end of school was only a month away. Then it would be home for the summer, and three whole months without her new husband. The thought depressed her, and she slumped in her chair, staring distantly at the tabletop.

Ron elbowed her sharply in the ribs, and she turned around to glare at him. "What's wrong with you?" he hissed.

"Go away," she hissed back at him. "I'm thinking."

He made a face. "About Malfoy?"

Instinctively, Hermione glanced around. Everyone was either paying attention or sleeping, so there was no one to hear their whispered conversation. "Shut up, Ronald!" she muttered, stabbing him in the ribs with a vicious finger. He grunted and rubbed at his ribs and gave her a baleful look, which she returned. Grumbling to himself about temperamental witches, Ron started absently doodling on his parchment. Eyeing Ron suspiciously to see if he would elbow her again, Hermione finally settled back and slipped back into her thoughts.

Her mind wandered to the ring that she had hidden in her drawer. She had slipped out to Diagon Alley--a fact that had set her heart to pounding violently at her own temerity--and had the ring made. It was a simple gold band, and on the inside the words '_Amor aeternus'_ were inscribed. She closed her eyes as she imagined slipping the ring onto Draco's finger and feeling the cool metal of her own ring slide over her own finger.

When she had asked him where they were going to be married and who would perform the ceremony, he had informed her that in the wizarding world, it was not always necessary to have someone officiate over a marriage ceremony, nor anyone to perform it. The ritual words needed only to be spoken, the rings put on each other's fingers, and they would be married. Hermione had wryly noted that obviously elopement wasn't too difficult for witches and wizards. They had just to go to a room and get married and then it was done.

She thought sadly of the marriage ceremony that she had always dreamed of having. A beautiful white dress, a church filled with white gardenias, her family and friends there. Instead her marriage would take place in the Astronomy tower. She had one white robe, which was as close as she would get to a white dress, she supposed sadly. The only two people to be present would be the bride and groom.

Tonight, she thought, feeling her stomach tremble with something between fear and excitement. Today she was an unmarried girl. Tomorrow she would be Draco Malfoy's wife--Hermione Malfoy. She glanced around the classroom absently, her gaze faraway. She saw Pansy Parkinson smile brightly at Sean Benedict, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Now _that _was an unlikely couple. She was surprised that Sean was even talking to Pansy. Usually Gryffindors and Slytherins didn't mix. Then she chuckled to herself. Pot calling the kettle black, she thought wryly. But the frown persisted. There was just something. . .odd about that relationship. Then she shrugged restlessly. It was none of her business who Sean Benedict was with. She didn't even know him that well. And she cared even _less _about Pansy Parkinson's love life.

As class was released, Hermione let out a sharp breath of relief. She felt jittery and anxious, ready for night to fall and everyone to fall asleep. She rose quickly from her seat and saw Harry and Ron both glance at her, startled. She didn't see the two boys exchange a look before Ron caught up with her as she rushed out of class. He drew her into a small alcove, and she blinked up at him, startled. "Ron? What's wrong?"

"Malfoy sent me a note," he said in a low voice, glancing around quickly to see if they were overheard.

Hermione stared. "What on earth did he send you a note about?"

He hesitated, then said grumpily, "He wants me to escort you to the Astronomy tower tonight."

Hermione stared at him, speechless. Draco was inviting _Ron, _of all people, to their wedding? When he saw her stunned look, Ron said hastily, "Not to stay. Merlin's beard, I don't want to see any of that snogging business. I'm just to make sure that you get there safely, then leave. Malfoy will make sure you get back to the common room all right."

She gaped for a moment. "I have an _escort_?" she sputtered, and Ron grinned wryly at her.

"Yup. At least he's serious about that, if nothing else."

_Oh, Ron_, she thought painfully. _You have no idea how serious he is. About everything_. But she said nothing for a moment. "I don't need an escort, Ron," she said quietly. "I'll be fine on my own."

His eyes got a militant gleam that she recognized all too well. She had seen it too many times in Harry or Draco's eyes not to recognize it. They were all three much too alike, she thought with a sigh. Only none of them would admit it. "You need an escort," he said firmly. "On that I completely agree with Malfoy. So I'll escort you there, Hermione. What time are you planning on leaving?"

"Midnight," she said weakly. "Ron, this isn't necessary---"

"It's necessary," he said shortly, and she huffed at his tone. She desperately wanted to argue, but felt like it would be shrewish, especially when both men were looking out for her safety. But she bristled at the implication that she needed a 'big strong man' to protect her. She was the smartest witch at Hogwarts. She could take care of herself just fine. Then she remembered those long, cold fingers closing over her throat, and she shivered. So she closed her mouth and nodded shortly. "Thank you. I'm going to leave at midnight."

Ron nodded. "I'll be waiting for you in the common room." Then he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. "I'm sorry for how I acted," he blurted out. "It's just--it's hard to imagine--you--_that_--with _Malfoy. ."_

Hermione suppressed her small smile at Ron's bumbling apology. She squeezed his hand. "Thanks, Ron," she said quietly. "That means a lot to me."

He hung his head and she could have sworn she saw a touch of pink on his cheekbones. "No problem," he mumbled. "I'm, uh, going to go eat lunch. You coming?"

She smiled slightly. "No, thanks. I think I'm going out by the lake."

He nodded quickly. "Okay. See you later." Then he rushed off, obviously still embarrassed about talking about her relationship with Draco. Vaguely amused by Ron's actions, Hermione made her way through the halls and outside. She tilted her face up to the warm sun for a moment, then ambled across the green grass to the edge of the lake.

She sat down and drew her knees against her chest. This was where she had stood on the first night with Draco, she thought wistfully. Her hands clenched on the folds of her robes when she thought of tonight. She adored Draco, she really did, and to be his wife was one of her fondest dreams in life. But like any bride, she felt jittery and scared. She was going to be married to this man for the rest of her _life. _Unless she killed him first, Hermione thought wryly, a small smile curling her lips. Sometimes he was just so damn aggravating that it made her want to pull out her hair.

She felt more than saw his presence at her back. She didn't glance at him as he sat down beside her. But when he looked over at her with concerned green eyes, she glanced over at him for a moment, then returned her gaze to staring across the lake, her eyes faraway. "Are you all right?" Harry asked her quietly. "You've seemed distracted lately."

She shrugged restlessly. _Tell him_, her conscience prodded insistently. She ignored it. "I've been restless," she admitted. "Feeling like something's going to happen. Like something _needs _to happen."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged again, a sharp movement with her shoulders. "I don't know," she murmured. "It feels like there's a storm just hovering on the horizon, waiting for the right moment." She tipped her head back to stare at the crystalline blue sky. "Everything's clear now," she murmured. "But the darkness is waiting."

He was silent for a long moment. "Are you becoming a precog too now, Hermione?" he said dryly, but she heard the real question in his voice.

She barked out a harsh laugh. "Hardly. I wish." She leaned back on her hands. Harry mirrored the position to stare up at the sky contemplatively.

"You all know something I don't," he said quietly. "You, Ginny and Ron have all been acting odd. What is it that I don't know, Hermione? What's so terrible that none of you will tell me about it?"

Hermione closed her eyes miserably. She had hurt his feelings. She had been stupid to think that Harry wouldn't notice that they were all hiding something. The boy was too smart for his own good sometimes, she thought sourly. She felt unbelievably fragile for a moment, and she wasn't sure if she was even ready to tell Harry today. She wanted to sit in silence and try to let her nerves calm. And knowing that Harry was going to be furious didn't help any. But it wasn't fair to keep him in the dark.

"I'm Draco Malfoy's girlfriend," she blurted out baldly, and quickly turned her head to watch his face anxiously, waiting for the explosion.

To her surprise, he stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. As she watched in astonishment, he laughed himself silly. When he finally wound down, he said breathlessly, "Tell me the truth, Hermione."

A little miffed, she said curtly, "That is the truth. I've been dating Draco for a while now." He looked at her, waiting for her to laugh, but when she only stared at him levelly, his grin faded.

"You're serious," he said slowly.

"As serious as a heart-attack," she responded tartly.

He surged to his feet. "You're insane," he said, his voice clipped and hard. "I don't believe you. You would never sink so low."

_Keep hold of your temper_, she counseled herself. That thought was lost a second later when Harry hauled her to her feet, his eyes flashing sparks. He shook her. "You're lying to me," he said through gritted teeth. "You would never do that to me."

She jerked out of his grasp, her eyes flashing furiously. "Surprise!" she said furiously. "It's not always about you, Harry Potter! Draco isn't the bastard that you think he is. He loves me, and I love him. He cares---"

"I can't listen to this," Harry interrupted, and started to pace. Hermione folded her arms.

"Tough," she said coldly. "You're a selfish bastard, Harry James Potter. Draco makes me happy. And if you can't be happy for me, then I'm disappointed in you."

"You can't know what you're saying!" he exploded. "This is _Draco Malfoy, _Hermione! The git who tormented us through six years of school! The boy who called you 'mudblood' and made fun of Ron because he was poor. The fucking _heir of Slytherin. _Doesn't any of that mean anything to you?"

"I never said that he was a saint, or that he wasn't a pain in the ass," she retorted. "And he's _not _the heir of Slytherin. But he's different now, Harry."

"Oh yeah? I haven't seen it."

"Yes you have," she snapped. "I've heard you mention it. You mentioned awhile ago that he wasn't bothering us anymore."

"Is that because you persuaded him not to?" Harry's voice was bitter and full of innuendo. Hermione's mouth opened in shock.

"Why you cold-blooded bastard," she said softly, feeling tears and rage clog her throat. "I thought better of you."

He just stared at her, his mouth set in a mutinous line. They stared at one another for long moments, and Hermione felt tears sting the back of her eyes. "I don't want to speak to you until you can apologize for that, Harry," she said quietly. Then she turned on her heel before he could speak and walked quickly away, leaving him alone beside the lake, the wind ruffling his black hair.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: For those of you who thought that Ron wasn't upset enough about Hermione's revelation, Harry's obviously made up for that, hasn't he? I didn't plan to make him such a bastard in this scene, but it just came out that way. But never fear, he'll apologize in due time. Can't have our lovely, green-eyed hero on the outs with one of his best friends forever, now can we? *winks* And guess what happens next chapter? Drum roll, please! *drums roll*  
  
The wedding! Yup, for all of you who were so impatient, it will be next chapter. :D Also, the inscription on Draco's ring is Latin, and means 'Love eternal'. ^_^

****

Reviewers:

Black Sinner~ Thank you so much! 

****

Uh. . .I have no name~ Thank you! I'm glad you're liking it so much. ^_^ And I'm glad I get the emotion in there. 

****

Becca202~ I haven't really mentioned Harry and Ginny's relationship because Hermione/Draco is the focus of the story. Harry/Ginny will only pop up when they're involved in what's happening with Hermione/Draco. So they'll show up some more, but obviously not in great detail because everything is more focused on the romance between Hermione/Draco.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

__

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the owner of all characters contained herein and anything associated with the Harry Potter universe. I make no money off this story or any other.


	20. I Thee Wed

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror in her room. She had tried to sleep earlier, but it had come at a high price. All she could remember was the look of revulsion in Harry's eyes when he had looked at her. She had almost heard the words that he hadn't said echo in her mind. _Slytherin's whore_. She swallowed the lump in her throat. He hadn't had to say it, she thought painfully. It had been plain to see there in his eyes. Unconsciously, her fingertips traced her pristine white throat. The bruises from her attack had long since faded, but the memory was still there--painful and ugly. Dumbledore hadn't summoned her to his office again, and for the hundredth time she painfully wondered if he had completely forgotten about the attack made on her. She shook away those thoughts fiercely.

Trying to dispel her unruly thoughts, she turned and withdrew her robe from the closet. She wore a midnight blue boatneck dress that went to her knees. It hugged her curvy figure in all the right places. She had wanted to look as nice as possible, even though the circumstances were unconventional. But then, it wouldn't matter what she was wearing once she put on her robes. She pulled the robe over her head, feeling the soft silk slither over her skin. She had spent too much on this robe, but she hadn't been able to resist. It was pure white, the color of moonbeams, and silken. Hardly practical, but she had bought it anyway. Now for the first time she would wear it.

She brushed out her long hair, staring at herself in the mirror. She had only lit a single candle, trying not to wake up Ginny or alert her that she was leaving her room at all. The soft candlelight flickered over her skin, illuminating her porcelain skin and creating shadows in her face. It made her cheekbones seem as sharp as an ice-pick, and made her eyes seem darker than usual. She left her hair unbound, then rose from her seat and clasped a black cloak around her to hide her white robes. They were obviously ceremonial, and Ron would want to know why she was wearing them. She felt fragile, like there was only a thin layer of calmness that was keeping her from bursting into tears or hysteria.

She had never dreamed that her marriage would be like this, she thought, staring into the mirror at herself. She had wanted her mother to dress her, to smooth her hands lovingly over Hermione's shoulders and to dab at her tears. Wanted her father to tell her that she was beautiful, and to walk her down the aisle to her man. But now she was alone. Tears brimmed, but she shoved them away violently. Those things didn't matter, she told herself firmly as she withdrew Draco's ring from its hiding spot. Those were just the trappings for the only thing that mattered. Her marriage to Draco.

She took a deep breath to steel herself and checked her appearance once more, then opened her door and closed it softly behind her, then crept downstairs into the common room. Ron was on a sofa, obviously half asleep. He blinked woozily at her as she came down the stairs, then came abruptly awake when he saw her. "Wow," he breathed. "You look amazing, Hermione."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and abruptly rushed him as he stood and hugged him fiercely. He blinked, startled by the desperation in her hug. Awkwardly his hands came around to hold her. "Hey," he said gently. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She nodded against his chest, trying desperately to stem the tears. "I'm okay," she sniffled. "Sorry." She stepped quickly back, but he caught her wrist in a gentle grip.

"You're upset," he said with a frown. "What happened? Did Malfoy say something to you?" Immediately his face drew down into a fierce scowl.

Hermione let out a watery laugh. "No, it wasn't Draco." She hesitated, and decided to tell him part of the truth. "I told Harry about Draco and I," she said softly.

He blinked, then his eyes darkened with sympathy. "He didn't take it well?"

Hermione laughed harshly and swiped at a few stray tears. "To say the least. I could practically see the brand that he stamped on my ass--_Slytherin's whore." _Ron's mouth opened in wordless shock.

"Hermione, that's ridiculous. Harry would never think something like that!" he sputtered, but she just looked at him with dark, wounded eyes and didn't respond.

His mouth opened and closed for a moment, then he shut it with a soft click and shook his head sternly. "You're just imagining things, Hermione. Harry wouldn't think something like that."

Hermione moved one shoulder and glanced away. "Can we leave?" she asked quietly. "We're going to be late."

"Sure," Ron murmured, still distracted. He preceded her in emerging from the portrait hole, and glanced around carefully for any professors or other prefects before he held out one hand to help her out of the portrait hole. She walked in silence beside Ron, her thoughts preoccupied even as her eyes scanned the corridors as his did. This was the first time that she had been in the corridors at night since her attack, and it only added her to anxiousness.

When they finally reached the door that led to the stairs of the Astronomy tower, Ron stopped and pocketed his wand with a wry smile. "Well, looks like we're ok now," he said cheerfully. "I think you can make it from here."

Hermione nodded mutely, then hugged Ron again, her grip convulsive. He hugged her back, his hands gentle. Then he held her at arm's-length. "I'll talk to Harry," he said firmly. "And I'll sort all this out."

Hermione smiled, her lips trembling slightly. "Thanks, Ron," she whispered. "You're a good friend."

He grinned lopsidedly at her. "Thanks, Mione. I could say the same for you."

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, then turned with a quick swirl of her cloak and hurried up the winding stairs to the Astronomy tower. Ron touched two fingers to his cheek in mild surprise, then shook his head, smiling sadly as he withdrew his wand and made his way back to the Gryffindor common room.

*****

At the door that led into the wide, circular room that was open-topped so that students could view the sky unimpeded, Hermione hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the door, then caught her breath in wonder. The room was filled with white candles and gardenias. Music with a woman's sultry voice was playing softly from somewhere in the room that she couldn't see. And the groom himself was standing in one corner of the room, fiddling absently with the sleeve of his robe. When he heard the door open, he looked up quickly, then his smile spread as he saw the shock on Hermione's face.

"I wanted to surprise you," he announced, moving slowly toward her.

"I am surprised," she said, feeling her stomach flutter. "I'm _completely_ surprised. How did you manage all this?"

He waved dismissively. "Not that hard." But he didn't go into detail. He reached her and raised her hand to his lips, his eyes locked with hers over their joined hands. A lump formed in her throat at the tender gesture. "I wanted it to be special for you," he said softly. "I didn't want it to be a joyless thing. And I know that you wanted something white."

She choked out a laugh and threw herself into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder. "You're so perfect," she sniffled, and he smirked into her hair.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, a trace of the old Draco in his voice. She squeezed him tighter, then released him and pressed a feverish kiss to his lips. "Thank you," she said roughly. "This means--you just don't know what this means to me."

He frowned slightly and caught her face between his hands. "Did you just think we were going to get married in some dusty old classroom?"

When she didn't answer, he sighed heavily. "Darling, I wouldn't want that for you. I know that weddings mean a lot to girls. Our marriage isn't a conventional one by any means, but I didn't want to cheat you of the wedding that you wanted any more than was necessary."

Hermione felt a cool tear slide down her cheek. "Thank you," she repeated. Then she pressed her damp cheek against his. "It means a great deal to me."

He grinned at her, then took her hand gently and led her farther into the room, closing the door with his foot. He led her to the middle of the room, then smiled down at her. Hermione looked up into his warm mercury eyes and felt her nerves dissipate. She withdrew her cloak, and watched his eyes flare. She tossed it aside, then smiled up at him. "Do you like it?" she asked softly.

She watched his throat work convulsively. "It's great. Merlin, you're gorgeous." He fingered her hair and saw something gleam softly within the silken strands. He frowned and leaned closer, then blinked down at her. "What's in your hair?"

"Silver chains," she said with a smile. "Only a few. I braided them into my hair."

"They look like stars," he murmured. "Just like that first night."

She smiled up at him. "Just like that first night," she repeated. "I thought that today, when I sat beside the lake." She reached up to lay her palm against Draco's cheek. "You've made me very happy," she said simply. "Thank you for it."

He laughed shortly. "I don't know what I've done, love, but I'm glad for it, because you make me feel--amazing."

She smiled teasingly. "I wasn't talking about _that."_

"Neither was I," he retorted. When he saw her skeptical look, he relented, "Okay, okay, not _just _about that."

She grinned cheekily. "That's what I thought." She laid her cheek against his shoulder and smiled to herself when he started to slow dance with her. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against hers, the now-familiar scent of his skin in her nose. She had no idea how long they slow danced before she felt something cool slide over the third finger on her left hand. Her eyes flew open in shock and she stared at her hand, then gaped at the ring.

It was three carats of flawless diamond cut in a square shape in a white gold band. She stared at the ring in shock before he tipped up her chin with two fingers to meet her eyes steadily. "I take you as my wife," he said softly, "to honor and love you for as long as I live. I take you as my partner, to trust and share the joys and sorrows of my life with you. And I take you as the mother of my children, to cherish and love them for all the rest of my life. With this ring, I thee wed. This is my solemn vow."

A single tear slid down Hermione's cheek, and she hastily withdrew Draco's ring. "I take you as my husband," she said quietly, her eyes warm on his, "to honor and love you for as long as I live. I take you as my partner, to trust and share the joys and sorrows of my life with you. And I take you as the father of my children, to cherish and love them for all the rest of my life. With this ring, I thee wed. This is my solemn vow." She showed him the inscription on the inside of his band and saw his eyes flare. Then she slid it onto his finger.

The rings gleamed softly in tandem for a moment, and Hermione gasped as a rush of warmth spread through her body. It faded a moment later, and she saw that Draco also looked a little shaken. Finally she whispered, "Is it done?"

He let out a long breath, then grinned at her. "Yes. It's done. You're now Mrs. Hermione Malfoy."

She bit her lip, then kissed him, tears glittering on her cheeks in the moonlight. She held out her hand to admire her ring while she held onto him possessively. She didn't think he minded very much, especially considering how tightly he was holding _her. _She kissed him again, smiling broadly. "Merlin, it's gorgeous, Draco! But it's so extravagant! I wasn't expecting something like this."

He smiled slightly. "I know. That's why it's so fun to surprise you."

She elbowed him gently. "Seriously," she insisted.

He rolled his eyes. "I come from a wealthy family, darling. I have plenty of money, and who better to spend it on than my wife?"

Hermione grinned broadly. "I'm your wife," she said, delight in her voice. "I'm your _wife." _She threw her arms around him to hug him hard. "I'm married!" She blinked at the idea, and Draco laughed.

"Yup. You're married, pet. Better get used to it. Soon everyone will know."

That caused her smile to immediately fade. "Let's not talk about that," she said immediately, biting her lip. "I don't want to talk about it tonight. Tonight is for happiness."

He frowned down at her. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head quickly. "Nothing, nothing. Let's just not think of anything except us tonight. I want to just be with you."

He hesitated, then smiled and obeyed her. He slipped his arm around her waist and tipped his head back to stare at the stars. He drew her against his tall body and pressed a kiss to her hair. "You're beautiful, Hermione," he said seriously.

She smiled up at him, and he could have sworn he saw a blush heat her cheeks. "So are you," she said shyly, and he grinned broadly. Even after they had lain together, and they were now married, she was still a little shy around him. It was so cute. He ran his hand over her shoulder and brushed his fingertips over her neck and felt her shiver delicately beneath his touch. His eyes heated, and he pressed a kiss to the junction of her neck and shoulder.

"I want to lie with you," he said quietly, his eyes intense. "I want to sleep with you in my arms, Hermione."

She tilted her chin up to smile at him, her eyes warm with promise. "Then I'm sure you'll find a way," she said softly, and his eyes darkened. He didn't smile back at her. He took out his wand and got rid of the flowers and candles, leaving the room as bare as it had been when he had gotten there. Then he seized her hand and hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

Hermione grinned madly as they darted through the corridors, and had to clap her hand over her mouth to suppress her giggles. They went gradually downward until they reached the portrait for the Slytherin common room. "Dungbombs," Draco snapped, and the portrait winked lustily at him and nodded suggestively towards Hermione then swung open. Draco peered around the corner to make sure that the common room was deserted, then fairly dragged Hermione upstairs and into his room.

He locked the door behind him, then turned and saw that she was sprawled out on his bed. His eyes glittered down at her as he set his wand carefully on the dresser, then took hers and did the same. Her lips curled in a slow smile as she propped her head on her elbow. "Why Mr.Malfoy," she teased softly. "What are you doing all the way over there?"

"Looking at my wife," he retorted, filling his gaze with her. The moonlight filtered through his windows, reminding him powerfully of the night when he had come to her room in the storm. But this time she was wide awake, and her eyes were full of knowledge and promise. She sat up on the bed and pulled her robe off over her head, making the silver chains in her hair catch the light and gleam softly.

His eyes glittered as he pulled off his own robe to show that he was wearing black trousers and a white silk shirt. Hermione's smile curled. "Darling, you're wearing too many clothes," she murmured. "C'mere and let me fix that for you."

He walked toward her and let her unbutton his shirt as his hands touched her hair, slid velvet fingertips over her cheek, then glancingly over the swell of her breast before moving slowly up and down her back. She pressed a kiss to his abdomen as she removed his shirt and felt the muscle ripple beneath the touch of her mouth.

His hand moved slowly over her back and moved the zipper down, then slid inside to splay his hand over her bare back. She tilted her head back, her hair spilling down her back and concealing his hand on her skin. He kissed her, at first with just a brush of lips, then nipping lightly at her full lower lip. He felt her tremble beneath his hands as he pulled her dress off her shoulders and tossed it on the floor, his eyes hot.

She smiled up at him, her eyes as old as Eve's. "I'm your wife now," she whispered. "No one can touch you like this except me."

"Damn straight," he growled as he laid her back against the pillows, his knuckles easing over her silky skin. "And no one else is ever going to see you like this except me. Ever."

She smiled up at him, then sucked in a gasp as he slid a fingertip along her thigh. "Nope," she said, her voice a little strangled. "Not a chance."

His smile was feral. "Good."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Author's Notes:

So there was the wedding! I hope that it didn't disappoint. ^_^ I know the vows weren't particularly original, but I tried my best. *shrugs*

I guess I'm starting to like Ron more for some reason, because he turned out as quite the gentleman in this chapter. ^_^ So we'll have to see where that goes. *grins*

I've also revised Chapter 16. Not the content, really, but I added song lyrics to the bottom of the page because I thought they were pretty and applicable. ^_^ So if you have a yen you can check them out.

I've also written another story that's Draco/Ginny, and I'm liking the way that it's going to so far. ^_^ So if you're not a straightedge Hermione/Draco fan (or even if you are), then you should check it out, just for kicks. ^_^ It's called 'To Wed the Enemy'.

Thank you all so much for reviewing!

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

__

Disclaimer: I own nothing concerning the Harry Potter universe. All of that belongs to J.K. Rowling. I do own my plot, however, and Jonathon Ravensblack.


	21. Lovin' All Night

****

Author's Note:

Ah, my dears, my dears. Unfortunately, my work load of school is tightening its strangle-hold on me, and I might not be able to update for a while. Know that this hurts me much more than it hurts you. *hangs head* Usually I try to write another chapter before posting one, but time and my damnable muse have been absent, and it has not gotten done, and possibly might not get done in the near future, as I have several important tests very soon. Ergo, I ask your forgiveness and will try to wrangle out the next chapter as soon as I may.

__

Yours in exhaustion,

Ailleann

******

Draco was pulled from his dreams by the feeling of being watched. He cracked his eyelids cautiously and found himself staring into his wife's steady brown eyes. His lips curved and he slid his arm around her and felt her wriggle beneath his touch. Then in a smooth move he rolled and pinned her beneath him. He grinned down at her, and for a moment his face was open and boyish.

Hermione's heart suddenly ached with love for him. He kept his emotions so bottled up all the time, even with her to an extent. He looked so young and happy that she hated to have his face darken. But the issue of the secrecy of their marriage was too important to put off.

"Draco--" she began, but he cut her off by kissing her exuberantly. For a long minute she let herself luxuriate in the feel and warmth of his body against hers. Then she drew away and looked at him with serious eyes. The smile faded from his lips within moments. "What's wrong?"

"We can't tell anyone," she blurted out, and watched as his eyes shuttered.

"Why?" he asked emotionlessly, his face blank.

Hermione bit her lip. "Because of what your father would do," she whispered.

His jaw tightened so hard she was afraid it would break. "I told you that my father wasn't an issue," he said, his voice hard and clipped.

She reached up to lay her palms against his cheeks, her gaze intent. "But he _is _an issue, Draco. That doesn't change just because we don't want to think about it." His face didn't soften beneath her hands as it usually did, but neither did he pull away.

"I'll take care of it," he said shortly.

She sighed, determined not to lose her temper. "Draco, you _can't _take care of him. What are you going to do, kill him?"

He just stared at her, and she felt a chill sweep through her. "I could," he said softly, and Hermione's arms tightened around him.

"No," she said fiercely, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Swear to me, Draco, that you won't."

"I won't promise that," he said steadily.

She felt panic bubble in the pit of her stomach. "You have to," she said desperately. "Draco, you can't kill him!"

"Why not?" he said mercilessly. "Wouldn't we all be better off? I don't want to have to hide our marriage, Hermione. I want to see my ring on your finger. I want other men to know that you're mine."

"I want that too," she said, fighting back tears. "But we _can't. _It's not just your father, Draco. What would people say?"

"When did you start caring about what people think?" he snapped.

She bit her lip. That was true--she didn't care what people thought about her most of the time. Instead she just stared up at him with anxious eyes. "Promise me," she whispered. "Promise me you won't do that. I couldn't stand it if something happened to you because of it, Draco. What if they sent you to Azkaban? What would I do?"

"They're not going to send me to Azkaban," he muttered, but his face had softened somewhat, and he absently started twisting a curl of her hair around his finger.

She rapped her fist gently against his bare chest. "That's _why_ they send people to Azkaban, you dolt. And I think patricide would get you a quick ticket there. It wouldn't do much good for us to be able to announce our marriage if you're in prison."

He sighed. "True," he muttered reluctantly. Finally he heaved a big sigh. "Fine, I won't kill him." When she relaxed, he qualified, "I won't kill him unless he directly threatens me or you."

Hermione nodded. "That's reasonable." She stretched her neck to press a kiss to the soft underside of his jaw and smiled slightly at him. "Good morning, husband," she murmured, demurely lowering her eyes.

Draco's smile was reluctant, but it was there. He touched his lips gently to her cheekbone. "Good morning, wife."

She smiled up at him, perfectly content to lie with him. He glanced at the clock, then swore. "Damn. You need to go, honey."

Startled, she followed his gaze and saw that the clock was flashing 'You're going to get caught'. Right beneath the words the time was displayed. Swearing softly to himself, Draco rolled back over on his side of the bed so that Hermione could scramble up and put on her clothes. As she frantically searched for her discarded dress, Draco propped his head on his hand to watch her, his eyes warm.

When she couldn't find her dress, she stopped briefly to glare at him. "You could help, you know!"

"Why? I'm just sitting here enjoying the view," he drawled, and Hermione huffed at him before she got on the floor to look under the bed. Draco's smile curled as he watched her. She emerged from beneath the bed, her wrinkled dress clutched in her hand. She quickly pulled it on, then found her white robe and pulled it over her head, then clasped her black cloak around her throat. Then she skirted the bed to lean over to kiss Draco. She had planned to give him a quick kiss, worried about how long it would take her to get back to the Gryffindor common room. Instead he slid his hand into her hair to press her close as he took possession of her mouth.

Minutes later, Hermione blinked as he released her, and found that her hands were tangled in his hair, and he was looking distinctly pleased with himself. "Beast," she muttered, but her eyes were soft. "I've got to go."

"I'll fly you back," he said lazily. "I don't want you walking the corridors on your own."

She huffed indignantly at him. "I'll be fine, Draco."

He felt too mellow to snap at her, so he only said mildly, "You're my wife. That makes your safety of utmost importance to me. Indulge me."

She huffed out an impatient sigh and tapped her foot. When he appeared not to be in any hurry, she strode over to his dresser and quickly withdrew a pair of jeans and a shirt and threw them at him. He caught them reflexively, then raised his eyebrows at her. "Dressing me already, darling?"

"Hurry up," she muttered. "I don't want to get caught."

"Calm down," he said soothingly. "We won't get caught. If anything, it will be me, because I'll still have to fly back." When he saw that that thought distressed her, he rolled his eyes. Merlin's beard, the woman worried over everything. "Don't worry," he said again. "Just sit down. You're making me nervous with all that pacing. Relax, baby."

She hesitated and relented enough to stop pacing rapidly across the room. Instead she watched as Draco pulled the sweater over his head and pulled on the jeans. She swallowed hard at the picture that he made--his face relaxed, feet bare, a warm red sweater and jeans. Unable to resist, she stepped quickly toward him and kissed him fiercely. He responded immediately by closing his arms around her to press her close.

When they drew apart, they were both panting. Draco's eyes were hot, and Hermione felt a little dizzy. "We need to go," she said weakly. "Really need to go."

Draco hesitated, then nodded. He quickly shoved his feet into shoes, then drew his Firebolt out and opened his window. The cool pre-dawn air slapped him hard as he stood on the sill, and he muttered a quick curse at the chill in the air. He mounted the broom, then held out a hand to Hermione to steady her as she seated herself behind him. Her arms went around his waist to clutch tightly, and he waited a moment to enjoy the sensation. Then he kicked away from the window, thinking in annoyance that the room would be freezing by the time he came back.

He quickly looped around and swooped upwards to the Gryffindor tower. He knew her windows by sight now, and quickly stopped to hover in front of them. Hermione extricated her wand and pointed it at the lock. "Alohomora," she muttered, and they both heard the lock snick quietly open. Hermione reached out, one hand still around Draco's waist for balance, and pushed the windows open. Draco ducked his head as he floated into the room, then landed. He turned and saw that Hermione's cheeks were flushed from the cold air, and her hair was in a wild halo around her head. Her lips looked bee-stung from his kisses. She had never looked more beautiful.

When she met his eyes, she stilled from closing and locking the windows behind them. One side of his mouth kicked up into a smirk. "I can be a little later," he murmured.

Hermione smiled. "Sure you can," she agreed. "The clock was a little fast, that's all." She took a long step forward and into his arms.

*******

Pansy looked down at Sean and smirked to herself. It had been almost too easy. He had been frightfully eager for any attention that she threw his way. It had only taken a week to completely wear down his resistance. The blowjob in the closet might have added to that, she mused as she rose soundlessly from his bed. She pulled on her clothes as she looked down at the sleeping boy. So innocent in his sleep, she thought in dark amusement. So innocent in life. The poor child had been a _virgin_. She was stunned that he had been untouched, but it hadn't deterred her one bit. Virginity was so highly overrated, she thought in disdain. It had been a pleasure to educate him. Then her lips curled. He had caught on fast enough, she thought, pleased. Her body bore the marks to prove it. She bore a perfect set of teeth marks on her breast, and soft bruises on her hips from where he had gripped her with iron fingers. She welcomed the aches in her body.

She glanced down at him for another moment, then turned and immediately dismissed him from her mind. She threw her cloak over her and drew up the hood to hide her appearance. Hopefully no one would be awake, but if they were she didn't want them to recognize her. She crept out of the boys' dormitory and up the curving stairs to the girls' side. Now where would be little Miss Know-it-All's room? she pondered, her eyes glittering coldly from the recesses of her hood. She knew that the idiot girl would have her own room--she was a prefect. Which made it that much easier to incriminate her. The items wouldn't be mistaken for anyone but hers.

Pansy crept to one door and cracked it open. Immediately she saw that there were four girls all sleeping peacefully in the room, and closed it again. She sighed deeply. Damn. She was going to have to look in _every _room. Being the wife of the Dark Lord better be _so _worth this, she thought sourly. She made her way down the hallway, peeking into each room as she went. She was near the end of the hallway when she opened a door and saw a pile of books. She felt a spurt of excitement. She withdrew swiftly from the room and then dug in the pocket of her cloak. She pulled out a small vial of potion and uncorked it, then tossed it down her throat. She grimaced at the foul, musty taste. This better work, she thought. If it didn't, she was going to murder Blaise. She waited five minutes as he had told her, then cautiously cracked open the door again.

She crept into the room and closed the door again, peering towards the shadows that surrounded the bed. She bit her lip. The potion she had taken didn't make her invisible, just harder to see. It made her blend in with her surroundings. But if someone looked hard enough at her, they would see her. She tip-toed closer to the bed, her eyes narrowing with the suspicion that there were two bodies entangled in the bed.

She suppressed her soft gasp when she came close enough. _Why that little slut! _she thought in outrage, conveniently forgetting she had just risen from the bed of another man. Hermione and Draco were tangled together, both naked. They both seemed to be dozing rather than deeply asleep. Pansy fisted her hands furiously. She wanted to snatch up Hermione and slam the other girl's head against the wall. Instead she forced herself to calm. _That little bitch would get hers_, she thought viciously as she turned to survey the layout of the room.

Still moving quietly and checking every few seconds to make sure that the pair was still asleep, she carefully planted her evidence. Just as she tucked the key to one of Snape's tests into the pages of _Hogwarts, A History, _she heard someone in the bed stir. She froze like a deer in headlights, and slowly turned. Hermione had opened her eyes, and as Pansy watched in furious impotence, she rolled over to plant kisses along Draco's chest.

Pansy gritted her teeth as Draco woke to kiss Hermione. The little whore, Pansy fumed. She'd show her to infringe on Pansy Parkinson's territory, Pansy thought in malicious glee. She edged closer to the door, her eyes still on the pair who were happily oblivious to everything but one another. Pansy reached behind her to slowly turn the doorknob and open it. To her relief, it opened soundlessly, and neither Hermione nor Draco seemed to notice her. She slipped out, then closed the door behind her. Only then did she allow herself a breath of relief. Then she scowled. Bitch, she thought coldly. We'll see who wins in the end. Then she hurried down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor tower.

Minutes later she dashed up the steps to Blaise's room. He woke to her roughly shaking him, and he blinked sleepily up at her, then scowled when he saw who it was. "What the hell do you want, Parkinson?" he snapped, his voice scratchy from sleep. "Why the fuck are you bothering me?"

She stared down at him with furious eyes. "It's done," she snapped.

Blaise snarled at her. "You woke me up for that? You could have told me that later." When several other occupants of the room woke long enough to snarl "shut up", Blaise lowered his voice. "Look, Parkinson. Let's talk about this later."

Pansy lowered herself to her knees beside Blaise's bed. "Let's talk about it now," she hissed. "I just watched him kiss her and fuck that little bitch. I want to know _now."_

Blaise gritted his teeth. "You're a total pain in my ass, Pansy," he snarled.

She snarled back at him. "Likewise, Zambini. Now tell me. I'm not going to just follow along with your mastermind plan. I'm not your puppet."

Blaise curled his lip at her. "I don't feel like hashing this out with you right now, Parkinson. Get out of here, and we'll talk about it later."

"But--"

"Get _out_." The words were quiet and softly spoken. But they held a world of menace. Pansy hesitated before the danger, then rose to her feet and exited the room with all the dignity she could muster. Once she shut the door behind her, she fisted her hands. So, she thought furiously, Zambini thought she was just going to be another pawn in his little game. Well that wasn't the way it worked. Pansy was no one's pawn. Least of all Blaise Zambini's. She owed him no allegiance and no loyalty. She'd make her own plans against the usurper in Draco's bed, and she'd make her own plans against Zambini. Because _no one _told Pansy Parkinson what to do. She'd see him damned in hell first.

With those thoughts, a cruel smile stretched across her lips and she sauntered back up to her own room, feeling infinitely more cheerful.

****

Reviewers:

Dragon-femme-fatale~ Actually this isn't in response to anything you've said--yet--but I just have to say that I adore your penname. *grins* It rocks my socks. :D Anyway--to be relevant to your review--there are so many fics that get me misty-eyed. *sniffles* One of them I sat there and bawled my eyes out. *sighs sadly* It's Just Little Ginny, by Green Fairy of Doom. If you haven't read it, you must read it immediately. I wept. *sniffles again* Indeed I did.

****

Charli~ I _know! _Isn't Draco just the cutest thing ever? It makes me just want to pinch his cheeks--either pair. *coughs* Umm....stopping now.

****

Uh. . .I have no name~ Didn't you just love Ron? I re-read it before I posted and I was like--aww, Ron you're so cute. *cuddles Ron* hehe. 

****

Fairylightbabe89~ Well I'm glad that you read it anyhoo, even though you don't usually read R fics. ^_^ And really, there's not that much in it to be R--at least in my opinion. But just to be safe I made it that way. :)

****

Krisitna~ Draco does bear quite a few similarities to Spike. *grins* Which I'm pleased about because I adore Spike. If Spike was real, I would snatch him up. :D *laughs* Are you talking about the endearment when he calls her 'pet'. If that's so--yes, that was taken straight from Spike's mouth to my story. I think it's such a cute nickname, and so I just had to include it. :) 

****

General Author's Note:

*hugs you all* Oh, I'm _so _glad that everyone liked the wedding! It was a hard scene to write, because I didn't want it to be something shady, to be done in haste and without emotion. It was their _wedding, _for goodness' sake, and I wanted it to be special. Also, I've never been to a wedding, so it was even more difficult, as were the vows. *rolls eyes* Ye gods, those darn vows. Pain in the butt, they were. Anyway, the picture in my head of the wedding was romantic and gorgeous, and I'm glad that came through in the writing.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

__

Disclaimer: All characters and ideas associated with the Harry Potter universe belong to J.K. Rowling.


	22. Identity

Here it is, the promised chapter. I don't know if FF.net told everyone that I've replaced the Author's Note with the rightful chapter, but here it finally is! It's substantially longer than the other chapters, and I hope it's satisfactory after such a long wait. My computer still isn't fixed, but I'll make an effort to try to hammer out some more chapters as soon as I may.

___________________________________________

When Hermione awoke, she instantly knew that Draco was gone. The room was cold, and she could feel the draft from the window that had been blown open when he left. She sighed and snuggled deeper beneath her sheets. Her hand snuck out to lie on the place where he had slept beside her. It was still warm, although the cold in the room was rapidly leeching the warmth from the sheets. Her fingers curled into a small fist, as if by touching that place she would be able to somehow touch him. She peeked from beneath the sheets and saw the glitter of gold on her finger, and couldn't suppress the smile that stretched across her face. _I'm married, _she thought with a little thrill. She immediately sobered a moment later. She couldn't go downstairs and sing out to the whole world that she was the new Lady Malfoy like she wanted to. There were secrets to be kept, and if they weren't kept well enough then she would bring destruction upon everything that she held dear.

She set her jaw stubbornly. She wasn't going to live in fear from Draco's father. She had made Draco promise not to kill him, and she had no intention of doing so herself. But she wouldn't hesitate if he threatened someone she cared about. Unexpectedly, a smile curled her lips. That was the same answer Draco had given her. Obviously they were more alike than either of them cared to admit. She grinned to herself for a moment, then pondered how to make the elder Malfoy accept his son's marriage to a Muggle-born. She chewed anxiously on her lip until she heard Ginny tap on the door. She sat up in response and abruptly realized she was completely naked. She yelped softly and scrambled out of bed to haul on an oversized shirt, then let Ginny inside.

Ginny blinked at her appearance. "Hermione! What are you doing still asleep? I came up here to check on you. You're going to be late!"

"Late?" Hermione repeated blankly. "Late for what?"

Ginny goggled at her. "Late for class! What did you think?"

Hermione stared at her for a stricken moment. "Holy God!" she yelped, lunging for the clock to spin it towards her. It cackled at her and gleefully showed her the time. She made a mad dash for the shower, leaving a relieved and amused Ginny in her wake. Ginny heard the shower turn on and patiently went to sit on the bed to wait for Hermione to emerge. From above the noise of the shower, Ginny called t her, "And why were you sleeping so late, missy?"

There was a long silence. "I was up late studying," Hermione finally said, and Ginny smiled wryly.

"Sure you were," she murmured under her breath, skimming her eyes over Hermione's room. It was as familiar to her as her own, and felt just as safe. She had come here and wept in Hermione's arms when she had been lovestruck over Harry, listened to Hermione tutor in her Charms and laid in that bed and had girl-talk with Hermione many a night. Hermione's room had been a refuge of safety and serenity when Ginny's problems had grown too large to handle on her own. Feeling nostalgic, Ginny's gaze skimmed over the bookcase and past, then she frowned, something jarring her from her memories. There was something out of place. Frowning to herself, Ginny rose and walked over, her fingertips lightly tracing the spines of the books. When she came to _Hogwarts, A History_, she paused and peered closer when she saw a piece of paper sticking out. She withdrew the book and opened the page.

A piece of parchment fluttered out and to the ground. Confusion deepening the lines in her forehead, Ginny bent down to pick it up, then stifled a gasp. The parchment was a key to one of Professor Snape's upcoming tests. She recognized the material from what she had seen Hermione studying a few days before. Her gaze unconsciously shot to the bathroom door, which was still closed. Then she stared down at the piece of parchment as if it were poison, her mind working frantically. She could only think of one reason for Hermione to have one of Snape's tests, and that was an utterly ludicrous thought. Hermione didn't need to cheat. Ginny had seen first-hand how smart Hermione was. So why would she have one of Snape's tests?

Ginny nibbled anxiously on her lip, torn about what she should do. Should she just put it back and pretend she had never seen it, or should she take it and ask Hermione about it later? She didn't even consider going to talk to Dumbledore about it. Although Hermione was on the fast track to becoming Head Girl, something like this would ruin her reputation, and she would probably be expelled. Just the though made Ginny's stomach lurch with nausea. When the bathroom door opened, Ginny stuffed the key into her pocket and slammed the book closed. Hermione gave her an odd look as she rushed out, toweling her hair dry frantically. "What on earth are you doing, Gin?"

"Reading," Ginny blurted out. "I was just. . .reading."

"This early?" Hermione muttered, more concerned about getting her hair dry and pulling on her underwear than with her friend's reading habits. Ginny gulped and carefully put the book back, her hands trembling with nerves. She wanted to ask Hermione about the paper, but she was afraid to. Just the possibility of Hermione being expelled made her want to vomit. She could _never _have a hand in something that would devastate Hermione so drastically. So she kept her mouth shut and her eyes averted, not trusting herself to look Hermione in the eye until she had calmed down.

Minutes later, Hermione said impatiently, "What are you doing, Gin? Let's go!"

"I'm coming," Ginny said unsteadily, and followed Hermione out as the other girl rushed downstairs. She didn't even stop to get a cup of coffee, just rushed out the portrait hole. Harry was sitting on a sofa waiting for Ginny, muttering to himself. When she came downstairs, he narrowed his eyes at her pale face and dark eyes. "What's wrong?" he murmured as he rose to wrap one arm around her waist.

She shook her head at him as they moved slowly toward the portrait hole. She desperately wanted to talk to Harry, to hear what he thought she should do. Hermione was Harry's friend too. But Hermione was Ginny's _best _friend. Hermione didn't deserve to have this spread around school, even by accident. If it became necessary, Ginny would be the one to go to Dumbledore to plead Hermione's case.

Harry studied her with worried eyes. "You sure?" he asked softly. "I'm here, Gin."

She felt tears well up. God, she loved him so much. She buried her face against his shoulder for a moment, drawing strength from his lean, muscled body. Then she smiled up at him slightly. "I'm just fine, darling," she said quietly. "Go to class. I'll see you at lunch."

He hesitated, obviously torn between the desires to actually go to his class or to see what was wrong with her. When she gave him a firm shove, he sighed heavily. "We'll talk about this later," he said, his voice threatening. She grinned at him in response, feeling a little steadier. 

"Of course we will," she said with a smile, then turned on her heel and strode toward her own class. Once she was out of Harry's sight, her smile faded and her face went grim. She would have to think on this. She would have to think on it a great deal.

********

  
Unfortunately, Hermione's first class was Divination. Not only did she hate the class, but Draco was in the class with her. Not that she didn't love her darling husband, but she was still flustered from almost being late. And she also wasn't sure how she would react to seeing him. He wasn't just her boyfriend now. He was her husband, and there was a deeper, stronger bond in that. She wasn't sure that everyone wouldn't know how she felt about him as soon as she looked at him. To prevent it, she kept her head down as she walked into the room and sat at her desk. She could almost feel his frown as he stared holes in her back. She hid her secretive smile behind a cloud of hair.

Moments later, Trelawney swept into the room. "Hello, class!" she called gaily. "Did everyone have good dreaming last night?"

"Peachy," Hermione muttered under her breath, shuffling through her papers to find her essay.

Trelawney's attention zeroed in on her immediately, and Hermione wished she had kept the sarcastic comment to herself. _Draco is rubbing off too much, _she thought grumpily as Trelawney stepped up to her desk. "And you, Miss Granger? How are you feeling?"

Hermione blinked rapidly. "Fine," she said cautiously. She didn't want to ask why Trelawney had even asked the question. That would open a can of worms that she didn't even want to go near. But the woman answered her question anyway. "I simply asked, Miss Granger, because there has been a shadow around you of late."

"A shadow," Hermione repeated blankly, even as she damned herself for asking.

Trelawney nodded vigorously. "Yes, Miss Granger. A shadow. That's what gave you those bruises had you had a few weeks ago."

The classroom fell deathly silent, and Hermione felt her face freeze. "No, Professor," she said as calmly as she could even as rage burned her throat and fear made her hands tremble. "A shadow didn't give me those bruises. A person did."

Trelawney shook her head stubbornly. "No, Miss Granger. A person did not. I have seen it in a vision."

Hermione felt her muscles tighten. _Don't say it, don't say it, _she told herself frantically. But she couldn't help it. Her frustration with not knowing who had attacked her and her dislike of Trelawney and her 'skills' combined to make the comment burst from her mouth. "Well, I saw it with my own eyes, Professor. It was a person. A person who wrapped their fingers around my throat and tried to kill me. A person who chased me down the hallway and laughed at my attempts to escape. So excuse me for saying so, _Professor, _but I believe my vision was clearer than yours."

Trelawney cleared her throat several times as she worked for what to say. Her eyes had opened wide, and Hermione could feel the shock and horror that was emanating from the rest of the class. Finally Trelawney said stubbornly, "I stand by my vision, Miss Granger. It was a shadow. But I can say no more than that." Then she swept away and started class, leaving Hermione grinding her teeth at the woman's arrogance and sheer blindness.

Hermione barely paid attention through class and just sat fuming. She didn't know why Trelawney's prediction made her so angry. But she had almost pushed aside the memory of her attack, and Trelawney's insistence that it was a non-corporeal creature that had put those bruises on her throat made her unreasonably angry. Class passed by in a blur while Hermione basically ignored everything that was going on around her. When she felt everyone rising around her, she glanced around in surprise. She hadn't realized that she had been sulking for the whole class period. She gathered up her things and risked a glance in Draco's direction. He was watching her through his lashes with narrowed eyes. She gave him a small, quirked smile, then hurried into the hallway.

She bumped into Blaise Zambini and almost lost her balance, stumbling backwards until his hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm in a grip that made her gasp. He jerked her forward again; his eyes lit with hate. "Watch where you're going, bitch," he hissed at her, and she gasped again and before she knew what she was doing, she slapped him.

Surprised, he released her, his hand going to his cheek. "You hit me," he said stupidly, and she curled her lip at him.

"Don't ever come near me again, Zambini," she said coldly. "Or you'll get more than a slap."

"Threats?" he asked silkily, and she lifted her chin in disdain.

"I'm not going to have this talk again with you, Zambini. It's getting old. Stay away from me."

He sneered at her. "We'll see who laughs last, mudblood."

She put one delicate hand to her lips to conceal a yawn. Above her hand, her eyes were watchful. "How very trite, Zambini. But then, you never did have much creativity."

His eyes flashed with rage, and he took a step toward her. Just then Draco materialized behind her and stepped between them. He slapped Zambini on the shoulder a little harder than necessary and bared his teeth at him. "Zambini! What's going on, man?"

Blaise eyed him for a moment as Draco turned his back to the fascinated crowd and said in a low voice, "Back off, Zambini. Touch her again and I'll take off your hands."

Blaise sneered at him and held up his hands in a gesture of pacification. "Fine," he said in an equally low voice. "I won't touch your little mudblood."

Draco gritted his teeth at the insult, but to take Blaise to task again would be too conspicuous. He walked quickly away before he gave into the urge to beat Blaise to a pulp for manhandling Hermione. Blaise followed in his footsteps, his face disgruntled. But inside he was smiling as the pieces of his puzzle started to fall into place.

*********

That night, Hermione was studying in the common room when Crookshanks stalked into the common room and jumped up into the seat with her. She scowled down at him when he sent her parchment flying. "Crooky, damn it all," she muttered, bending down to pick up her essay for Potions. When she straightened, she realized that Crookshanks had a note tied to his neck. Surprised, she untied the note from Crookshanks. As soon as he was free, he leaped down and started to frantically groom his fur, as if she had soiled him. Rolling her eyes at the oddities of cats, she unrolled the parchment and scanned it.

__

Miss Granger,

Please come to my office immediately. Draco Malfoy will accompany you.

~Professor Dumbledore

Hermione's heart rammed against her ribs in fear. Why did Dumbledore want to see her? And why was Draco, of all people, going to escort her? It would be more sensible for Ron or Harry to go—they were her friends, and they lived in her House. Did Dumbledore suspect something was between Draco and Hermione? They had been so careful, and now she wasn't sure that they had somehow given themselves away. It was one thing if Dumbledore knew that they were involved—it was even more serious if he actually knew that they were married. Hermione gnawed anxiously on her lip, her gaze far away. Then she rushed upstairs to grab her wand and a cloak, then went back downstairs. There was no sign of Crookshanks, so he had obviously stalked off to nurse his emotional wounds of being an errand-cat.

She pulled on the cloak, trying to ignore the little fear that wouldn't go away. It was already dark, and although there were still students around, she didn't like walking the corridors in the dark anymore. She took a deep steadying breath, then stepped outside the portrait. She glanced around the dimly lit corridor nervously, fingering her wand. A moment later, a lean figure detached from where he had been leaning against the wall and stepped toward her. She yelped and flung out her wand, her mouth opened to curse the person into oblivion. But as he stepped into the light, her hand fell limply to her side.

Draco smiled wryly at her. "Tense, love?"

"Don't tease," she said tersely. "You scared me to death, Draco."

"Sorry about that," he said, although there was a definite twinkle in his eyes that belied the apology.

She wrinkled her nose at him and called him an uncomplimentary name under her breath. "Can we just go?"

"Absolutely." He turned on his heel as she caught up with him and they started walking toward Dumbledore's office. She shot him a sideways glance and nearly glared. He looked supremely unconcerned about her safety, even had the nerve to hum under his breath. _Fine escort he is,_ she thought irritably. _Fine **husband **he is!_

"Aren't you worried about my attacker?" she hissed at him.

He shot her a lazy glance. "No. You're not alone. He won't bother you."

She glared at him, feeling her tension rise higher the farther they went from Gryffindor Tower. "Why are you so sure?" she asked nastily, her hand clenched so hard around her wand that her knuckles were white.

Draco sighed and pulled her around a corner and glanced around for a moment. Then he pulled her hands from her pockets and kissed her knuckles. "Don't worry, little one," he murmured softly. "No one's going to hurt you."

"You're going to protect me?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow, but her voice lacked the venom it had had moments before.

He arched his eyebrow back at her, a smirk on his face. "Did you ever doubt it?" His voice lowered to a whisper. "You're my wife. No one is going to touch you."

She snatched her hand back and refused to look into his persuasive mercury eyes. "Oh really? Like Zambini did today?"

He didn't respond, and she glanced up at him, surprised at his silence. Then she almost took a step back. His eyes were like glittering knives, and for one moment she was almost afraid of him. "Zambini won't go unpunished," he said coldly. "He laid hands on you. What I did to Weasley will be nothing compared to what I do to Zambini."

Hermione blinked. She had thought that Draco had forgotten about the incident earlier today, simply because he had made no mention of it. Abruptly she realized that Draco's anger had been burning all day, he had just kept it tightly controlled. She sighed. Sometimes she severely underestimated her erstwhile husband. She laid a gentle kiss on the curve of his jaw, and he glanced down at her, his eyes still hard. "Don't be angry," she said softly, kissing him again. "You once hated me like that too."

He shrugged that off impatiently. "But I never manhandled you," he said icily.

She sighed. "I know. But Blaise is different than you. Don't be too angry with him."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You've forgiven him? Just like that?"

"Of course not," she said with great dignity. "But I don't want you to kill him. I'm not adverse to a little threats or maybe a punch or two. But I don't want you to gut him."

Draco's smile spread, and some of the ice thawed from his eyes. He kissed her, lingering over it. When he drew away, he winked at her. "Looks like I've rubbed off on you a little bit, Granger."

She smiled up at him serenely. "I don't know about that, Malfoy. Shall we continue on to Dumbledore?"

"Absolutely." He peered around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, then strolled out, his hands shoved into his pockets. Hermione followed a moment later, and they walked the rest of the way to Dumbledore's office in silence.

When they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, Draco cleared his throat and said clearly, "Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger to see the Headmaster."

There was silence in the hall for a moment, then the wall creaked away to reveal the familiar spiral staircase. Hermione led the way up the stairs, and from behind her she heard the wall close behind Draco. They finally came to the top and she rapped politely on the door that led into the Headmaster's office.

"Come in," he called from beyond, and she opened the door with a quick glance at Draco. She moved into the room, and smiled when Fawkes burbled a soft greeting.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, looking very old. There seemed to be more lines in his face than she remembered, and she sensed a heavy weariness in him. "Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. Please have a seat."

Glancing warily at one another, they obeyed him. He leaned slightly forward to steeple his fingers thoughtfully. "Several things have come to my attention of late, and I thought that I would discuss them with you before I took any action."

Hermione blinked rapidly, and sensed Draco doing the same. "Sir?" she blurted out. What could Dumbledore possibly want their opinions on?

Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair. "Miss Granger, you might think that I have forgotten about the attack that was made on you. However, I have not. I have thought carefully over it, and still have come to no real conclusion. Suppositions, but I have no real evidence."

Hermione's body tightened, and Draco's jaw hardened. "Who do you think it is?" Hermione asked, hiding her trembling hands in her lap.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I don't believe that it's human, Miss Granger."

Hermione blinked. That was the last thing that she had expected him to say. "Excuse me?"

Dumbledore sighed and his gaze ran over his desk. He picked up a small tin box on his desk and opened it, then held it out to them. "Lemon drop?"

Draco nearly growled, but he pressed his lips together to hold it back. "No," he said curtly. When Dumbledore offered it to Hermione, Draco said furiously, "She doesn't want one either. Could you get on with it?"

Dumbledore eyed him over his half-moon spectacles. "Do you often speak for the young lady, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco refused to blush, although he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. Then he immediately glared at Dumbledore for making him feel uncomfortable with something that was perfectly his right. Hermione was his _wife. _Of course he had reason to speak for her. "When it suits me" was all he said, and kept his eyes away from Hermione.

Hermione sighed. "No, Professor. I don't want a lemon drop. Could you please explain what you meant?"

Dumbledore took a lemon drop and popped it in his mouth. For long minutes, there was no sound in the room while Dumbledore pondered. Finally he said, "I believe that what attacked you was similar to the Erumpets that I spoke of last time that we had a conversation."

Hermione looked baffled, and Draco's face showed a rising irritation and confusion. "Could you be a little more specific?" Hermione said cautiously.

Dumbledore laced his fingers together on his desk. "I believe that what attacked you was something called a fetch."

Hermione blinked. "A fetch?" she repeated. "But sir—it was a man. It was too strong to be otherwise."

"They are not human, Miss Granger. Their strengths are far greater than our own."

"Could someone please tell me what the hell we're dealing with here?" Draco snarled. "What the hell is a fetch?"

"There's no need for profanity, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said quietly.

Draco turned on him with a snarl. "I believe there is, _Professor. _Hermione might tolerate your wandering around an important topic, and so might Potter, but I'm not going to. I want to know what the hell is threatening my wife!"

His voice had raised to a shout by the last word, and he clamped his mouth shut, too late to take back the revelation. Hermione groaned. "Nice work, slick."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "Your wife, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco sighed. Well, he had already blurted out the truth. Might as well finish it. "Yes. Hermione is my wife. We were married last night."

Dumbledore blinked a few times. "Well. I sensed something was happening but I wasn't sure what that was. I assume that was the disturbance I felt in the Astronomy Tower?"

Draco arched his eyebrow sardonically in answer.

Dumbledore eyed him for a moment. "Indeed. Well this does put a new twist on things."

"To say the least," Hermione mumbled, and Draco shot her a quelling glance as he stared challengingly at Dumbledore. _Did the old fool think that he was going to split him from Hermione?_ Draco wondered, his body tensed for a fight.

Dumbledore was silent for several minutes. "Indeed," he said again. "Well, I assume that neither of you want this to become public knowledge?"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "We don't."

Dumbledore studied her over the rim of his glasses. "Do you care to tell me why?"

"No," Draco said coolly. "We don't."

Hermione glared at him. "Draco!" she hissed. "What's your problem?"

He glared at her. "My problem is that you've been walking around mostly unprotected for weeks now after you were attacked. And he's just now getting around to telling you what he thinks is the problem? Obviously he doesn't think that your safety ranks very high on his list of prerogatives, Hermione."

"On the contrary, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger's—or rather, Mrs. Malfoy—safety is of paramount importance to me."

"Obviously not, as your negligence for her safety becomes more clear," Draco said icily. "I've done my best to make sure that she's protected, but you can do more."

"Indeed I can, young man," Dumbledore said, his voice dropping a notch and becoming colder. Hermione bit her lip anxiously. She could tell that Draco's insolence was rapidly starting to irritate Dumbledore, and she definitely didn't want the most powerful wizard on earth to be angry with her husband. She had no desire to become a widow at such a tender age.

Hermione reached across the space that separated her from Draco and took his hand. He glanced down at their joined hands, then up at her. "Please," she said in an undertone. "Think about what you're doing."

"I am thinking," he said quietly, his voice like steel. "He's not been careful with you, Hermione."

She squeezed his fingers warningly. "Think with your mind, not your glands, Draco. Having you at odds with him won't solve anything. Work with him."

He hesitated, his common sense warring with his primitive male instincts. Finally he muttered, "Fine. I won't say anything more. Happy now?"

She squeezed his hand. "Yes," she said quietly. "Thank you, honey."

He grumbled under his breath but returned the hand squeeze. Then the pair glanced at Dumbledore, who was watching them closely. Dumbledore sat back in his chair for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Well," he said musingly, studying them both with a piercing look that made Hermione feel like he could see into her soul. "At first I was skeptical about the reasons for this marriage," he said calmly. "But having seen the effect that Miss Granger has on you, Mr. Malfoy, I think I might have to withdraw my doubts. She is obviously a calming and steadying influence on you, which I believe will make you stronger in the future. Always before your downfall has been your quick temper."

Draco bit back the scathing comment that wanted to rise to his tongue. Instead all he replied with was a curt "Yes." Absently, his thumb smoothed over Hermione's knuckles, a gesture meant to soothe both of them.

"May I continue with my explanation now?" Dumbledore asked, and Hermione nodded anxiously.

"Yes, Professor. Of course."

Dumbledore seemed to smile slightly. "There's no 'of course' about it, Lady Malfoy."

Hermione nearly glanced around for Narcissa before she realized that Dumbledore was addressing _her. _She blinked for a moment, then Dumbledore started to speak again. "A fetch is a creature that dons the form of the person that it is meant to destroy. It will look exactly like you, but there will be subtle differences. The inclusion of the color black somewhere on its person. Hence the black cloak that your attacker wore. It is substantially physically stronger than you. And it cannot speak."

"Why does Hermione have a fetch? Does everyone have one of these things?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. A fetch is created when there is a great deal of animosity directed toward a single individual."

Hermione's mouth opened in surprise. "Animosity towards _me? _But why?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot answer that question for you, Lady Malfoy, as I don't know the answer. But I do know that those whose hate makes the fetch must be in close proximity to each other. Hence why Lord Voldemort does not have a fetch of his own—the people who hate him are too widely spread to have their hatred coalesce into a fetch."

Hermione stared at Dumbledore in horrified silence. There were so many people that hated her that it had made a supernatural creature whose only purpose was to kill her. Her lip trembled, and she bit down hard on it. _People hated her. _The thought boggled her mind. She had always thought that she was fairly well liked, or at least tolerated. She didn't know that people hated her so much.

Draco's hand tightened around hers, his anger flaring. People didn't like Hermione. And now some creature was trying to kill her. The thought made him furious. And when he saw the quick sheen of tears in Hermione's eyes before her lashes swept down to shield them, his rage started to build. _I'll search down every son of a bitch who helped make that damned fetch, and I'll kill them, _he vowed to himself, his grip tightening on Hermione's hand until bone rubbed against bone.

She gasped, her gaze rising to meet his. She shook their joined hands gently. "Draco," she murmured, a soft catch in her voice. "Draco, you're hurting me."

He blinked, rising from his murderous thoughts to listen to her. Immediately he loosened his grip on her hand and kissed it apologetically. Then he looked over at Dumbledore, his eyes glittering. "How do we get rid of the fetch?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Kill it, unfortunately."

Draco laughed, but it was a sound full of dangerous edges. "I don't see how that's unfortunate. Considering that I was already planning on it anyway."

"A fetch is not like a normal person, Mr. Malfoy. It possesses a far greater strength than you think."

Draco shrugged negligently. "It ran when I came after it. Maybe it will run again. Maybe it's afraid of people."

Dumbledore seemed to age before their eyes. When he spoke, his voice was weary. "Mr. Malfoy, I don't believe you see the severity of what we're dealing with. A fetch is a supernatural creature, not just some boy that you can beat up because he insulted Miss Granger's honor."

Draco waved his free hand airily. "Same theory applies."

"No," Dumbledore said sharply. "It doesn't. You can _not _fight a fetch and win. The only person that can defeat a fetch is the person who it is meant to kill."

Hermione's hand tightened convulsively on Draco's. "Me?" she squeaked, her eyes opening wide. She was the bookworm, the planner. She didn't engage in duels or battles. That wasn't her forte. She gladly left that to Harry and Draco.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, Miss—Lady Malfoy. Forgive me for my repeated uses of your maiden name," he said abruptly.

Hermione waved her hand impatiently. "It doesn't bother me. In fact, you should probably just stick with calling me by my maiden name. But back to the fetch. Why am _I _the one that has to kill it?"

"Because you are the person that all its energy is focused on. If you turn that back on the creature, it will fade away."

"And what's to stop these people from making another fetch against Hermione?" Draco demanded.

Dumbledore shook his head. "As far as I know, a fetch can only be made once. It takes many years for something like that to be created. It requires such strength of negative energy that it's nearly impossible to recreate. Much like chicken pox, once you've had one, you won't have it again."

"How reassuring," Draco muttered under his breath. Then he raised his voice. "But _how _can she kill it? With spells? Does she have to physically fight it?"

Dumbledore didn't reply for a moment, just took off his glasses and cleaned them in silence. Finally he said quietly, "I don't know."

There was complete silence in the room for a moment. "You don't _know?" _Draco said dangerously. "I thought you were the all powerful Dumbledore! Why don't you _know?"_

"Draco, shut up," Hermione snapped. She took a steadying breath. "Is that all you know about fetches, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked at her with troubled eyes. "I'm deeply grieved to say yes, Miss Granger."

Hermione took another breath. "Very well then. I'll try to do some more research on my own then. I appreciate your assistance."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Despite your husband's accusations, Miss Granger, your safety is of great importance to me. I will continue my own research, and hope that this ordeal will soon end for all of us."

"So do I," Hermione said quietly. "May we be excused?"

Dumbledore nodded, turning his head away to look pensively at Fawkes, who was snoring lightly on his perch. Hermione rose in silence as Draco did the same, still boiling with anger. She led him downstairs and into the darkened hallways. When he started to speak, she laid her finger gently across his lips. "Let's not discuss this now," she said softly. "There are too many ears to hear."

He glanced around. "No one's here, Hermione."

She shook her head. "We don't know that. Come on." They walked silently back to the Gryffindor Tower, Draco staying nearly glued to her side. He was no longer the indolent protector—his eyes were savage and sharp as they surveyed every nook and cranny of the halls that they passed through. His wand was gripped in his hand, and his jaw was clenched so hard Hermione wondered that he didn't break any teeth.

When they reached the portrait, Hermione stopped him from retreating to his dungeons with one hand. "Don't go," she whispered, looking up at him in the near-darkness. The hallways were dark, and a sliver of moonlight illuminated his glowing silver eyes. "Stay with me."

He hesitated. "You're not worried about getting in trouble?"

She shook her head with a little smile. "Dumbledore knows now. I'm not worried."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're not worried about the Weasel or Potty finding out?"

She gave him a light slap on the arm. "Don't call them that. And no, I'm not. They know already."

He smiled wryly. "In that case, how am I going to turn down that invitation?"

She smiled up at him, then turned to the beaming portrait. "The password is 'baby buggies'," Hermione told her, and the portrait swung open, dabbing at her eyes and sniffling.

Hermione stepped into the common room and glanced around. Before she could lean back to tell Draco that it was all clear, he crowded up behind her. Teasingly, he laid a light kiss on the back of her neck where he knew she was ticklish. She let out a soft gasp and jumped forward, giggling madly. "Stop that!" she hissed loudly, grinning madly. "We're going to get caught!"

He grinned unrepentantly at her and glided toward her. "I thought you didn't care."

She bit her lip to hide her smile as she circled around the couch as he slowly stalked her. "I did say that, didn't I?"

He smirked over at her. "Why are you running from me, little one?"

She grinned over at him. "You stay away from me," she said threateningly. "I don't want to be tickled."

He grinned devilishly at her. "Don't always get what you want, love." Then he lunged for her.

Mid-motion, he felt something slam into his stomach and send him flying backwards. He grunted, then slammed back into a sofa. He blinked and saw Harry looming over him, his green eyes savage. "Stay away from her," Harry snarled. "She's not for the likes of you, you Deatheater scum."

Draco snarled back at him and sat up. "And she's for you, is she, Potter?" he sneered. "Trying to take on the Weaslette _and _Granger? Ambitious man."

Harry's hand snapped out and twisted in Draco's shirt, bringing them eye to eye. "Don't call her that."

"What?" Draco asked him, his eyes flashing as he deliberately goaded the other man. "Weaslette?"

Harry slammed his fist into Draco's stomach. Obviously Draco had been waiting for it, because he lunged at Harry and sent them both sprawling on the floor, slamming punches at each other.

Hermione stared at them in shock. She whirled as she heard a footstep on the stairs behind her, and saw Ginny knuckling her eyes and yawning. "Mione?" she said sleepily. "What's going on down here?" Then she saw her boyfriend rolling around on the ground and trying his best to beat Draco to death.

She rushed forward, sharing a glance with Hermione. Hermione withdrew her wand and muttered something under her breath. The boys were jerked rudely away from one another, and each flew backwards to land on the softness of sofas. The two women hurried to their respective men to make sure that they were all right.

Draco was sporting a rising black eye, and he winced whenever he moved, which made Hermione think that he probably had a few bruised ribs. Harry had a cut across his forehead, and his mouth was bloody. His shirt was ripped at the shoulder, and he also seemed to have a few bruised ribs and what looked to be a twisted knee. When Hermione and Ginny got done fussing, they both stood back and planted their hands on their hips. "What on earth were you doing?" Ginny demanded of Harry, and he hung his head.

Draco smirked across the room at Harry before his own woman tore a strip off of him. "And what did _you _thinking you were doing, Draco Malfoy?" Hermione demanded. "Brawling in the Gryffindor common room! What if someone else besides Ginny had come down? Do you know how much _trouble _we would be in?"

"You said you didn't care if we got in trouble," Draco muttered rebelliously under his breath.

"I didn't care if we got in trouble for you being in my room. I _do _care about getting in trouble because you thought you had to have a stupid pissing match with Harry!" 

"We weren't having a pissing match," he muttered.

She glared furiously at him. "Oh really? And what would you call it?"

He raised his head to glare balefully at her. "I was trying to kick his ass."

"Really? I didn't notice," she said sarcastically. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Harry looked contrite. She looked back at her husband and saw that he was glaring back at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed. She just _had _to be the one to get stuck with the pain in the ass husband. It was just too bad that she liked him that way.

"C'mon Rocky," she sighed. "Let's go upstairs and see if we can patch you up." He rose from the sofa, one hand pressed hard against his ribs. He shot Harry a dirty glare as he followed his wife upstairs and into her room.

He glanced back as she closed the door behind them and locked it. "Are your stairs not warded so boys can't come up to your rooms?" he asked suspiciously.

She shrugged. "Obviously it only works for Gryffindor boys. I guess the stairs never thought a boy from another House would come up here."

"Guess not," Draco muttered. Suppressing his groan of pain, he sat gingerly on the edge of her bed.

She looked at him from across the room and sighed. "This is twice now that I've had to patch you up, Draco. And all because you keep getting in fights because of me. This has to stop."

He glanced up at her. "That wasn't because of you, Hermione," he said curtly, easing his torso from side to side to see how badly he was hurt. "I just don't like the sorry bastard."

Hermione bit her lip and walked closer to kneel at his feet. "Here," she murmured softly, her eyes downcast. "Take off your shoes so you can lie down." She untied his shoes and then slipped them off his feet as he stared down at her bowed head.

Then she rose and helped him to move up on the bed so he could lie down. He stared at her in silence, startled by her gentle hands as she made him comfortable. He had never had anyone to cosset him or take care of him when he was sick. It was a new feeling, and one he found that he liked. When she started to rise from the bed, he caught her wrist. "Lie down with me," he said softly, his eyes intense as they met hers.

She didn't protest, just crawled back into bed to lie facing him. They stared at each other for long moments before Hermione said quietly, "I'm serious, Draco. I don't want to go through this again. _Please _try to get along with Harry."

"He's the one who started it, Hermione," Draco said, stung.

She bit her lip. "I'm going to talk to him too, but you were just as much a part of that as he was. I don't want to have to choose sides."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You make it sound like there's a choice," he said slowly. "You're my _wife, _Hermione. Your place is with me."

She glared furiously at him. "Don't tell me where my place is, Draco. It just so happens that I would _choose _to be with you. But I don't want to have to make the choice. They're my friends, Draco—my best friends. Don't make me lose them."

He scowled. "I haven't made them do anything. I haven't provoked them. They're the ones that are attacking _me."_

"You haven't provoked them lately," she agreed. "But you've been doing it for six years now, Draco. They've hated you for six years. Please make them see the other Draco. The one that I fell in love with."

"There's only one," he grumped.

She smiled lopsidedly and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You have so many different facets that I get dizzy trying to keep up with you," she teased gently. Then she sobered. "Please try. Please do this for me."

He hesitated and sighed heavily. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll _try. _I'm not making any promises."

He was rewarded with her dazzling grin and kiss. "Thank you," she whispered, nuzzling her nose into the curve of his shoulder. His arms went around her to hold her close, ignoring the twinge of pain from his abused ribs. He buried his face in her curls, and smelled her unique scent of vanilla and cinnamon. He briefly entertained the thought of trying to make love to his wife, then discarded it when his ribs protested at the smallest movement.

Instead he buried his hands in her curls and tilted her face up to meet his. "Tell me you love me," he demanded harshly. "I want to hear it."

Her chocolate eyes changed from confusion to gentleness. She laid her hand on his cheek that was rough with pale stubble. "I love you," she whispered, staring up at him. "I love you, I love you, I love you—" Her words were abruptly cut off when he seized her mouth with his and ravished it.

Finally she laid back against the pillows, out of breath and her heart hammering. Draco looked more relaxed, and he painfully moved down so that he could lay his head on her breast. The sound of her heart beating comforted him, and before he realized it he was asleep.

Hermione stayed awake longer, staring up at the ceiling. The weight and warmth of Draco's head on her breast made her stomach tighten into a little ball of pleasure and happiness. She loved him so much. He so rarely showed his vulnerabilities to anyone, and when he did she always wanted to cuddle him close. But she knew that if she even tried it he would bite her head off. She ran her hand gently over his back, wanting him to know that she was close even in his sleep. And eventually she fell asleep, her hand resting like a butterfly's kiss on Draco's back.

_________________________________________

__

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or the universe in which they exist. They all belong to J.K. Rowling.


	23. The Lake

From here on the chapters are going to be substantially longer, because if I kept them at the 4 pages or so that they were for the first 20 chapters, it will take me forever to finish this fic. And that is all.

Also, if you haven't read the updated Chapter 22, I suggest you do so before reading this chapter. I replaced the Author's Note that was previously there, so I don't know if it informed everyone when I replaced it with the proper chapter. So there is a real chapter there now, not just an Author's Note. Be sure to read that chapter first, otherwise some of this might not make sense. :)

__

Disclaimer: None of these characters or the universe in which they live belong to me. They all belong to the fantabulous J.K. Rowling. Only the plot belongs to me.

______________________

For the next several weeks, nothing really changed from when Draco and Hermione had only been dating. Hermione did notice that Draco watched her even more closely now. Now that he knew that it was a supernatural creature that was after her blood, he seemed more concerned than ever about her safety. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that he had privately spoken to Ginny about keeping an eye on her, because the younger girl clung like a burr to Hermione. Harry, on the other hand, kept well away from her. It was starting to be the talk of the Gryffindor common room. Whenever Hermione sat down with Ginny and Ron, Harry would kiss Ginny briefly and leave the table with a muttered excuse. While it hurt Hermione, she could tell that it was also rapidly starting to irritate Ginny. Ron looked both annoyed and bemused, and Hermione could tell that brother and sister were both growing rapidly tired of Harry's childish behavior.

It was one Saturday when they were sitting outside that Ron finally lost his temper. When Hermione joined the threesome after her bout of studying in the library, Harry started to rise to his feet. "I've got to go talk to Madam Hooch," he mumbled under his breath. Ron leaped to his feet.

"I'll go with you, mate," he said through gritted teeth. Then he stalked off, with a confused and irritated Harry following him.

Ginny glanced up at Hermione and saw her eyes were dark, but she said nothing. Ginny jumped to her feet and gripped Hermione's wrist. "C'mon. Let's go watch," she told her friend, and saw Hermione's wry smile. The two women stalked cautiously after the boys, keeping out of sight.

Surprisingly, Ron led Harry over to the willow where Hermione had mended the boys' scrapes after Ron had fought with Draco. The boys vanished into the cover of the branches, and Ginny and Hermione circled the perimeter of the tree so that they weren't visible from Hogwarts. Their backs were to the lake, and Hermione glanced over her shoulder once to make sure that the squid wasn't around. She had no desire to be eaten. It was such a beautiful day. Didn't want to ruin it with being consumed for a quick snack.

To her relief, the lake's water was almost like glass. She quickly turned around when Ginny gestured to her, and they leaned closer, and they could hear the boys almost as if they were standing beside them.

"What's your problem with Hermione, mate?" Ron asked angrily. "This shit has been going on for weeks now. You leave whenever she comes around. What's wrong with you?"

"She didn't tell you?" Harry asked furiously.

"Tell me what?" Ron demanded, his voice rising rapidly.

Hermione could almost hear Harry's sneer. "That she's fucking Malfoy," he growled, and there was a frozen silence for a moment.

"Yeah, I know." Ron's voice was bristly and very, very dangerous. "I've known longer than you have."

"You what?" Now it was Harry who sounded dangerous.

"Yeah. That's right. I've known longer than you have. And I'm not acting like a five-year old prat."

"You should be!" Harry retorted. "You honestly don't give a damn that she's Malfoy's whore?"

There was a sharp crack, and Hermione's hand flew to her mouth in shock. The sound was unmistakable. Ron had actually hit Harry! Her gaze went to Ginny, whose face looked stony. Hermione had half expected Ginny to storm in and tell off Ron for daring to lay a hand on her precious boyfriend. But Ginny just looked grimly satisfied, and with a start Hermione realized that Ginny was just as tired of Harry's behavior as Hermione was.

"What the hell was that for?" Harry snarled at his friend, and it sounded like there was a brief scuffle before there was silence again.

"Because you're acting like a complete jackass," Ron said shortly. "Obviously you've forgotten that Hermione has been your friend for six years. And if I didn't know how much my little sister has you wrapped around your finger, I'd say that you were acting like a jealous lover over Hermione."

"Don't be an idiot," Harry snapped. "I don't like Hermione like that."

"Then you better start acting like you like her at all," Ron said grimly. "Because pretty soon you're even going to lose her as a friend. For some reason, she cares about Malfoy. And you're supposed to care about her. So just keep your mouth shut and stop acting like a complete bastard."

"I'm not going to lose her," Harry said dismissively. "She just needs to get rid of Malfoy. He's going to hurt her."

"Is that so?" Ron retorted. "He's going to hurt her, is he? Like you're hurting her now. Haven't you been watching her lately? Every time you walk away from her she looks like she's about to cry."

There was a long moment of silence. "Hermione doesn't cry," Harry muttered.

"Well you're damn close to changing that," Ron snapped. "She's been your friend through all the stupid stuff you've done. At the first test of her actions you call her names—for which I hope you profusely apologize to her—and totally ostracize her. I'm surprised Ginny hasn't yelled at you yet."

"She has," Harry mumbled.

"Well then," Ron said curtly. "I think that you're being an idiot. And if you can't listen to your own girlfriend or one of your best friends, then I think you should think about it yourself. You've hurt her, Harry. I hope you make it up to her."

There was the soft movement of footsteps, and Hermione took a rapid step back, ready to bolt so that neither boy saw that she has eavesdropped on the conversation. Fortunately, it was Ron who emerged. He saw the two girls, but he didn't look surprised at their presence. He gave Hermione a wink and an encouraging smile, and patted his sister on the shoulder before striding off towards the castle.

Hermione was watching him, so she didn't hear Harry come up behind her. All she heard was his tentative voice. "Hermione?"

Shocked, she spun around and saw him looking miserable. Ginny stood off to the side, watching with narrowed eyes, then shook herself and strolled away to leave them alone.

Hermione bit her lip. "Hi, Harry," she said quietly.

He sighed and raked his hand through his hair in a movement that she recognized as one of frustration. "Look, Hermione. I know I've been a complete bastard—"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "You have. And with no provocation, I might add."Harry glared at her, his penitence forgotten for the moment. "No provocation?" he asked incredulously. "You're going out with Malfoy, and you don't think that's provocation?"

"No," Hermione said quietly. "It's my life, Harry. My behavior doesn't reflect upon you. You're not an ex-lover or anything else to act so jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Harry said hotly. "I just can't stand the thought of that slimy git touching you!"

"But it shouldn't matter to you," Hermione said quietly, but firmly. "I know it distresses you because there's animosity between you, but I'm in love with Draco. And I want you to accept that. Accepting our relationship doesn't mean you have to go drinking with him or suddenly be best friends. It just means that you don't have to avoid me and call me a whore."

Harry winced. "About that, Hermione—I wanted to really apologize. I was completely out of line."

"You were," Hermione said, her eyes flashing. "Not only was that completely out of line, but I'm shocked that you would think that you could ever apply that label to me. I am _no one's _whore, Harry Potter."

Harry hung his head. "Yes. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry."

Hermione let him stew in his penitence for a moment, then touched his cheek gently. Startled, he looked up at her, and saw her smiling wryly at him. "Friends?" she asked softly, and saw the sunshine break into his face again.

He leaned closer and kissed her cheek nonchalantly, with all the interest of a brother. "Friends," he said roughly. "I'm really sorry, Hermione."

She squeezed his hand. "I know. It's all right."

Harry smiled and squeezed her hand back. "Thanks. You always were the best."

She smiled back at him. "And you were always a flatterer," she teased, withdrawing her hand from his, conscious that he might feel the smooth band of her wedding ring on her finger, although there were illusion spells on it.

Just as her fingers slipped free of Harry's, she saw something dark flash from the corner of her eye. A breath later, something slammed into her, sending her flying. She dimly heard Harry's shout of alarm, but then the creature in the hooded cloak was on her. She twisted viciously beneath the creature's weight as it pinned her, its cold hands wrapped around her upper arms. _Fetch, _she thought briefly, then twisted her body and sent them rolling down the hill toward the lake. All she could think was how to get out from under the fetch. It was too strong to muscle away.

She only had a mere second to gasp for air before as they plunged into the water. Immediately she opened her eyes. The water gave everything a green tinge, and she saw the fetch floating across from her, frozen just as she seemed to be. The black cloak moved slowly in the water, the hood moving away from its face. She had to suppress her gasp as she saw the creature's features. As Dumbledore had said, it was an exact replica of her. Down to the stubborn tilt of the mouth and the freckle on her left earlobe.

Then the fetch reached through the water for her, its face curiously blank. Hermione treaded water frantically, trying to head back toward the surface. Hard fingers encircled one of her ankles, dragging her farther down. She saw precious air bubbles from her mouth moving lazily toward the surface, and she nearly panicked as the fetch towed her downward. Every second that she was underwater was another second that it would take her to reach the top. And she was rapidly running out of breath.

She kicked hard, but the water impeded her movements, and it didn't even rattle the fetch. Her lungs started to burn, and she twisted and bucked frantically in the water, her eyes scanning the area. Where were the merpeople? She wondered frantically. Surely they would come to her aid. She remembered Harry's account of their fierce faces and spears from the Triwizard Tournament.

Inexorably, the fetch towed her deeper and deeper beneath the water. Desperately, she watched the light fade from the surface of the water as they went deeper. She treaded water, then twisted so she could stare down into the face of her attacker. Looking into her mirror image was unnerving, but she was desperate. She reached down and clawed at the fetch's hands, and it released her abruptly. She didn't take a moment to wonder why it had released her so quickly. She started to swim upward, her lungs tightening. She desperately wanted to take a breath, but kept her mouth clamped shut.

She was staring upward, stroking towards the top, but her vision kept wavering. _Just the water, _she told herself groggily. The water seemed to darken. _Am I still going up? _She wondered absently, just as her world went dark.

************

When Hermione woke, everything was dark. She sat up abruptly, dragging a full breath of air into her lungs. She ached everywhere, as if she had been beaten. Then strong hands were on her face, hands she immediately recognized. "Draco!" she gasped, almost ready to hyperventilate. "Draco—I can't breathe!"

"Hush," he soothed, conjuring up a paper bag. "Breathe into this, darling." Her trembling hands reached for the bag and pressed it against her face, her wide eyes on Draco's. He looked haggard and worn, and his hair was mussed as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly. When her breathing slowly calmed, she dropped the bag into her lap, feeling shaky.

"Draco?" she stammered, nearly ready to cry. "Draco, what happened?" She looked around, and saw with a great deal of relief that they were in the darkened infirmary.

Draco seemed to age before her eyes, and he raked his hands through his hair again. "The fetch attacked you," he said wearily. "It dragged you into the lake."

"The lake?" she repeated, and then jerked as the memories rushed back. _Strong hands pulling her under. The light fading. Desperation mounting even as her lungs strained for air. Her chest feeling as if it would explode. The shock of seeing her face on the creature. Struggling upward even as her movements became slower and slower. The vague sensation of chilled hands on her arms, pulling her upwards._

Hermione shuddered violently and tried to calm her hammering heart. "How—how did I get out?"

Draco sighed. "The merpeople. I know barely enough Mermish to ask them to help you."

Hermione blinked. Surprisingly, it wasn't the fact that the merpeople had indeed come to her aid that caught her attention. It was the fact that her husband knew Mermish. "You know Mermish?" she asked in surprise.

His mouth tilted slightly into a wry smile. "Yes, dear. I'm not fluent, or anything near to it. But I know a few words. My father thought I should have a passing knowledge of pretty much everything."

"Well thank God for that," Hermione murmured. "At least that's something we can thank your father for."

"That and nothing else," Draco muttered under his breath. Hermione smiled slightly and slid to the edge of the bed. "Come up here with me," she invited softly, and was surprised to see Draco hesitate before he climbed up beside her. He pulled her close against him, his arms tight around her.

"We almost lost you." His voice was nearly toneless, but his arms were hard around her. She nearly winced from the force of his grip. "You weren't breathing when they brought you up, Hermione."

Hermione shivered, and his arms tightened around her again. She didn't protest his bruising grip because she could only imagine what agonies he had been through while she was unconscious. "But I'm all right," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the only place she could reach: his collarbone.

"This has to stop, Hermione," he said jerkily. "I'm not sure if I can go through that again."

"Me either," she said dryly, and his arms jerked violently.

"Don't joke," he said harshly. "I'm serious, Hermione. I—I thought you were dead. I went a little mad, I think." His voice was bleak.

Hermione bit her lip. She wanted to ask if anyone had seen them, but knew that it would be an idiotic question. To wonder if their marriage was still secret in the face of Draco's terrible fear would to make light of it and insult him. Draco sighed. "Go ahead," he said, his voice resigned. "Ask me. You know you want to."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione muttered, nuzzling her cold nose into the hollow of his shoulder.

She felt him jump at her cold nose, then his arms loosened their hard grip on her and settled her more comfortably against his long body. "No, no one saw me," he said with a sigh. "No one knows about us, my dear. Except for Dumbledore, and now McGonagall. She was the first one to find us behind the willow. Weasley had run for help."

Hermione frowned, her brow furrowed as she tried to search her foggy memory. "Wasn't Harry around?" she asked musingly, trying to remember.

Draco stiffened. "Yes," he said shortly. "He was."

Hermione tried to crane her neck back to look at him anxiously. "He didn't give you any trouble, did he?"

Draco sighed. "No, he didn't. We were both too worried about you to worry about each other."

"Good," Hermione murmured, muffling a yawn. She felt groggy and hazy, and wanted nothing more to fall asleep in Draco's arms. It seemed that that was the only place she really felt safe anymore.

His callused hands smoothed down her wayward curls. "Go to sleep," he murmured, his baritone voice rumbling his chest beneath her cheek. "I'm right here." He raised her left hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the finger that housed her wedding ring. She pressed close against him, and his arms swept around her. She slowly relaxed, then fell down into sleep.

***********

When Hermione came awake, she was instantly aware that she was alone in the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, but it was a moment before her vision cleared enough to look at her surroundings. Warm sunlight streamed through the windows, making the infirmary seem almost. . .cheery. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust at her own description. It was an infirmary. Cheery was _never _a descriptive adjective.

And it was also apparently deserted. She couldn't hear footsteps, or anything else for that matter. Frowning—someone was _always _here—she swung her legs toward the edge of the bed. Just as she did, she heard someone's voice. "Mr.Potter, I don't believe that Miss Granger should be disturbed right now. She needs her rest." Hermione immediately recognized the voice of Madam Pomfrey.

Hermione bit her lip, then raised her voice. "Madam Pomfrey? I'm quite all right. I'd like to see Harry, if that's all right."

A moment later, the healer came bustling to Hermione's bedside with Harry hot on her heels. She tutted under her breath as she summarily examined Hermione, then gave Harry an eagle-eyed glare. "Ten minutes, Mr.Potter. I'd like to inspect her more thoroughly afterwards." While the healer's back was to her, Hermione grimaced at that statement. She saw Harry's lips twitch once, then he was nodding solemnly to the healer.

"Yes ma'am," he said soberly. "I promise, no more than ten minutes."

Muttering to herself, Madam Pomfrey bustled away. Harry and Hermione shared a wry smile over their resident healer before Harry took the seat that was beside Hermione's bed. Hermione glanced around, half hoping that Draco was hovering somewhere nearby.

"He's not here," Harry said unexpectedly, and Hermione turned to look at him in surprise. "Draco," Harry said unnecessarily. "He's not here. He left before daybreak."

Hermione frowned. "How did you know he was here?"

Harry shrugged negligently. "Ron and I took turns as sentry outside the door."

Hermione blinked rapidly. "Beg pardon?"

Harry's mouth curved wryly. "You're a smart witch, Mione," he chided gently. "Did you think we'd leave you to guard yourself?"

"Well—no, I never really thought about it, but—"

"But nothing," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I know I've been a prick lately, Hermione, but you were attacked. In broad daylight, right in front of me. Of course I was going to take precautions with your safety."

"But I'm sure Dumbledore set up wards," Hermione sputtered. "He's obviously aware of what happened. You were there, and Draco knew what was going on."

Harry frowned slightly. "Yes," he mused. "Malfoy did know what was going on. Why didn't you confide any of this to anyone else? Not even Ginny?"

Hermione shrugged restlessly. "I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it."

Harry sighed heavily. "Malfoy doesn't have to be your sole support, Hermione. We've been your friends a lot longer than you've been with Malfoy. Don't think that we've abandoned you."

Hermione sighed and reached out to take Harry's hand. "I'm sorry about that," she said hesitantly, and he waved it away with his other hand even as he squeezed hers reassuringly.

"Don't apologize, Mione. I haven't been a very good friend lately. I suppose it's natural that you'd feel that way. Speaking of feeling—how are you? Feeling, I mean?" His smile was wry, and Hermione's heart swelled. It was a smile that she was familiar with. She had seen it on his face thousands of times over the years.

She smiled back at him. "I'm all right. Just feeling a little battered."

Harry's green jeweled eyes hardened. "No wonder," he said, his voice clipped. "It seemed like you were down there for forever. I had to restrain Malfoy from going in after you."

Hermione blinked rapidly. "Draco tried to go in after me?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Didn't he tell you?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No, he didn't. We didn't talk for very long. Why don't you tell me what happened, Harry?"

He arched one eyebrow. "I think that will eat up most of our ten minutes, Mione."

She waved her hand restlessly. "That's fine. I won't stay here much longer anyway."

Harry smiled slightly. "Oh really? Planning on escaping, are you?"

"No," she retorted stubbornly. "But I don't need to stay here. I'm perfectly fine, just a little sore."

Harry snorted. "If you say so."

She wrinkled her nose and glared at him. "Just get on with the story, Potter."

He chuckled, then started out. "I was talking to you outside the willow when something in a cloak attacked you. You were writhing around on the ground with it, and I was running toward you. Then you both rolled into the lake. Just as I was going to go after you, Malfoy shoved by me and tried to get in the water. He was about waist deep before I grabbed him back. Ron and Ginny came running up—I guess they had seen Malfoy running past them. Malfoy punched me, and we scuffled for a minute before Ron came in to help."

Harry shook his head, stopping the flow of his story for a minute. "It was a little scary, Hermione. He was crazed. I almost didn't recognize him. He got away from us and swam down into the water. He didn't come up for a minute, then he came back with his hair all sticking up. He looked almost as if he were in shock—his eyes were so blank and dead. He was shaking so hard I thought he might collapse. Then we saw two merpeople come up to the surface, carrying you. Malfoy said something in Mermish—I didn't know he knew Mermish—and then vanished back down again. He swam out and got you, then brought you back up the shore.

"He didn't let any of us near you, Hermione. Not even Ginny. He just kept shaking you and mumbling to you, and completely going nuts. Ron shoved him out of the way and used a few anti-drowning spells on you, and you started coughing up water. Just then McGonagall hurried up and carted you off to the infirmary. Draco followed her, and so did the rest of us. Madam Pomfrey shooed everyone out, and Draco stayed in the hallway, pacing up and down. He looked like hell, Hermione. Honestly. I guess I was a little shocked at the way he was acting."

"Why?" Hermione asked acerbically, almost shivering from Harry's account of what Draco had gone through. "Did you think he was just using me? That he didn't care about me at all?"

"For a while," Harry admitted bluntly. "But obviously that's not true. If that bloke's not head over heels in love with you, I'll eat my socks."

Hermione smiled wryly. "Well luckily for you, you won't have to. Your socks are horrendous, Harry. You shouldn't make bets concerning them. You'll poison yourself one of these days."

Harry made a face at her. "My socks aren't the issue, Hermione. Malfoy is."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, I'm in love with Draco. Did you think I would love someone who didn't love me back?"

"It happens all the time," he told her shortly. "Ginny loved me for a long time before I realized that I loved her too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well that's not the case here. Draco loves me, Harry, so you don't have to worry about that."

"Don't tell that to him," Draco's baritone voice came from the end of the bed, and Harry and Hermione glanced over at him in surprise. Draco eyed Harry for a moment before he smiled slightly at Hermione. "I don't want him thinking I've gone soft."

Hermione snorted, a very unladylike sound, as Draco came to the opposite side of her bed from Harry. Her hand reached for his, and he laced his fingers through hers, his other hand coming up to gently rub one of her soft curls between his fingers. "I don't think that's possible," she told her husband tartly.

Draco smiled slightly down at her. "Bossy wench," he said fondly, and she pursed her lips at him.

Chuckling, he gave her a gentle kiss, and his fingertips lingered for a moment on her cheek. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but her eyes were soft as she reciprocated Draco's gesture—touching his aristocratic cheekbone in a tender caress. "Between both of you, I'll answer that question several more times this morning. I'm feeling just fine, love. Don't worry so."

Draco snorted. "You're so damned accident prone, I can't help it."

Although she knew that he was baiting her, she scowled darkly at him. "Accident prone? I am _not _accident prone! I was attacked, Draco Malfoy!"

"How well I know," he muttered, and she kissed his knuckles and held his hand to her face for a brief moment before Harry cleared his throat pointedly.

Startled—they had forgotten Harry was even there—Hermione and Draco turned to look at Harry. He smiled wryly. "I guess my fears have been put to rest." He rose to his feet slowly, his thoughtful eyes on Draco, who held himself very still and tried hard not to glare venomously at Harry.

"If you hurt her, Malfoy, I'll cut you into little pieces and feed you to the squid," Harry said deliberately.

Both men ignored Hermione's sharp reprimand as they stared challengingly at one another. Slowly, the fine tension in Draco's muscles relaxed. "I wouldn't expect any less," Draco drawled, and Hermione saw Harry's smile flash quickly.

"We'll see," was all he said. He kissed Hermione's cheek quickly, ignoring Draco's low growl of displeasure, then strolled out of the infirmary.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey bustled back over to Hermione's bedside. She eyed Draco, but didn't protest his presence. _Obviously Dumbledore's alerted the staff as to our marital state, _Hermione thought with a sigh.

"Here now, Miss Granger," she said briskly. "I want to examine you. Mr.Malfoy, will you please take a seat?"

To Hermione's surprise, Draco didn't protest. He slid into the chair as Madam Pomfrey had requested, but his eyes were sharp as he catalogued everything that the woman did to his wife. When Hermione winced at achy ribs, his eyes shuttered and he wiped all emotion off his face. Guessing that it was hard for him to see her in pain, Hermione tried her best not to show how sore she was.

Finally Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I suppose you're well enough to leave, Miss Granger. You'll be sore for the next few days, and you should try to take it as easy as possible. But you're well enough to go to your classes and back to your House." She glanced over her shoulder and said quietly to Draco, "Keep an eye on her."

Draco's silvery eyes narrowed. "I intend to, madam."

Madam Pomfrey nodded curtly, then made a gesture toward the small dresser at Hermione's bedside. "Your clothes have been cleaned and mended, Miss Granger, and they're in the second drawer. While you're dressing I'll write you a pass back to your dormitory."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

The woman nodded shortly, then strode back toward her office. Draco rose smoothly to his feet to draw the curtain around the bed as Hermione slipped off the bed. She had to clutch at the sheets for a moment as dizziness assailed her, then she dug through the drawer. Her clothes that she had been wearing were folded neatly inside, with her wand sitting on top. She carefully pulled off the hospital shift, wincing at her achy bones. She glanced down at herself, almost expecting to be covered in bruises. But except for a circle of dark bruises around her ankle, she was outwardly unmarked. She slowly pulled on her clothes, then turned to face Draco.

His mouth was set into a hard line, his eyes like flint. Startled at the anger that nearly vibrated from him, Hermione made her way slowly to him. She smoothed her hand over his abdomen, feeling his muscles ripple and contract beneath her touch. "Draco? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said curtly. "Are you ready to go?"

Hermione frowned and propped her hands on her hips. "No, I'm not. What's wrong with you?"

He glared down at her. "There's nothing wrong with me, Hermione."

Hermione snorted. "Could have fooled me."

Draco glared at her again, his eyes flashing. "I don't have to tell you everything."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "No you don't," she said equitably. "Never said you did."

"I'm not going to wrapped around your little finger," he hissed at her.

Hermione sighed. "Is that what this is about?"

He ignored her. "I'm not going to let you have your way all the time. Especially about your safety."

Hermione's brows lowered. "What does that mean?" she asked ominously.

He ignored her again. "I think we should tell everyone about our marriage. Then Dumbledore will give us private quarters and I can make sure you're all right all the time." Draco looked stubborn, but Hermione saw the terrible vulnerability in his eyes. She sighed. He was so afraid of losing her that he was desperately wanting to pick a fight with her. Trying to cover his more sensitive feelings with prickly behavior. Typical man behavior.

Hermione stood on her toes to kiss the underside of his jaw, letting her body lean against his. "You know we can't do that," she said softly. "You know why, Draco. And don't worry. I'm not afraid."

"You should be," he snapped, his hands coming to grip her shoulders firmly. "You almost _died, _Hermione."

"But I didn't," she said softly, her brown eyes steady on his. "I _didn't. _You saved me."

"You saved yourself," he said curtly. "You had already gotten away from the fetch by the time they merpeople saved you."

"I would have never gotten to the surface without you," Hermione said simply, and saw his mouth tighten. She continued inexorably. "I'm not afraid of the fetch, Draco. I can take care of myself. And when I can't, I know you'll be looking after me. And so will Harry, Ron and Ginny. I'm amply protected."

"Obviously not well enough," Draco said, but his voice had lost some of its heat and now sounded weary. He dropped his forehead to lie against hers. "You just don't realize—" his voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes.

Hermione kissed him tenderly. "No," she said softly. "I don't. God willing, I'll never have to know what it feels like to have you in such danger. But I'm safe now. Let's not worry over it anymore, okay? We'll figure out what to do."

Draco sighed, and released her shoulders so he could wrap his arms around her. He held her in a desperate silence, his cheek pressed to her head. When he finally released her, he was quiet. Hermione looked up at him in concern, but he just gave her a faint smile. Hermione gathered up her things and let Draco escort her out of the infirmary.

He kept his distance from her, and Hermione almost told him that it didn't matter if people knew about him—she desperately wanted him close. But she knew that it _did _matter, so she kept her mouth firmly shut. When they reached the Gryffindor Tower, Draco leaned against the wall, his mouth turned up into a familiar sneer. Hermione's heart gave a little thump as she saw it. It had been a long time since Draco had looked at her that way. Even though she knew it was only for appearances—appearances that _she _insisted upon—it still caused a little pain in her heart.

"Well, I'm done with babysitting," Draco said curtly. "See that your friends look after you better, Granger. I don't want to have to walk you back again."

"Neither do I," Hermione retorted. She turned quickly on her heel and went into the Common Room before she gave into temptation and kissed him. To her surprise, as soon as she stepped into the Common Room she was nearly bombarded. Most of the Gryffindors were there, anxiously awaiting her arrival.

She was barraged with questions from almost everyone, and it took her a moment to adjust. Just as she opened her mouth to start answering questions—or at least make her way to a chair—Harry and Ron bustled through the crowd. They took up positions on either side of her, looking for all the world as if they were her bodyguards. Hermione blinked at both of them. "What on earth are you doing?"

Ron grinned at her. "We're your bodyguards, Your Majesty."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Ron. I don't need bodyguards."

"Watch," Harry said dryly, as the crowd of anxious Gryffindors seemed to surge toward them. Hermione blinked in surprise, then rolled her eyes again. "For goodness sake, boys," she said in exasperation. She cleared her throat, then raised her voice so that it rang through the room. "Everyone, please—back off and be quiet!"

Silence quickly fell in the room, and Ron and Harry exchanged amused glances over Hermione's head. Hermione nodded to herself, then smiled wryly at her two boys. "Now see? Bodyguards weren't necessary. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself," she said sensibly, then made her way to a chair.

Colin Creevey was the first to ask her a question. "Hermione, are you all right? What happened? We heard you fell in the lake! Did you see the squid? Who attacked you? Was it the same person as before?"

_Or several questions, _Hermione thought with a sigh. The boy seemed to speak in strings of multiple sentences. She didn't think she had ever heard him utter a single sentence by itself. She raised her hand with a imperiousness that she found came almost naturally. She was almost surprised at herself, although it didn't show on her face. _Maybe I'll be better at being Lady Malfoy than I thought, _she thought to herself in secret amusement as Colin fell silent.

"First of all, I'm quite all right. I've already been checked over by Madam Pomfrey, and she's given me a clean bill of health. Yes, I did fall into the lake, and yes I was attacked. Unfortunately, we don't know who my attacker was, or if it was even the same person." To her surprise, Hermione found that she could lie to the crowd of Gryffindors without batting an eyelash. _Draco is rubbing off, _she thought sourly. _He's a very bad influence. _One she'd have to put up with for the rest of her life. The thought almost made her smile, but she held it back.

Obviously her terse and brief explanation satisfied the Gryffindors, because they began to slowly dissipate, chattering excitedly among themselves. When the Common Room was mostly cleared, Ron, Harry and Ginny seated themselves close to Hermione's seat.

"Now," Harry said without preamble. "Tell us what really happened."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, you saw it all. Much better than me, actually."

"Well we didn't," Ginny said firmly. "So indulge us."

Hermione sighed again and briefly related what had happened. When she finished, Ginny narrowed her eyes at her. "Did Madam Pomfrey really give you a clean bill of health?" she asked suspiciously.

Hermione laughed. "Yes, she really did. She said I should take it easy for a few days, though."

Ginny sniffed. "Thought so." She glanced over at Harry, and they seemed to communicate with only their eyes for a moment.

"Don't do that," Ron said irritably. "It's weird."

"Weird?" Hermione asked him, arching her eyebrow in amusement.

Ron scowled again. "Don't do that either. You look just like Malfoy."

Hermione laughed. "I don't doubt it. He's a bad influence on me." But then she smiled, ruining the effect of her words.

Just then Crookshanks sauntered into the room and leaped into Hermione's lap. Despite his indolent demeanor, Hermione saw that his hair was standing on end. Hermione stroked and soothed him for a moment, smiling inwardly. Even her cat couldn't openly show that he had been worried about her. Typical of the males in her life.

Just as Hermione got Crookshanks settled down, the portrait slid open again, and McGonagall stepped into the room, her expression solemn. Hermione's smile of welcome slid away when she saw the professor's mouth pressed into a line of displeasure.

"Professor?" she asked anxiously, "is there anything wrong?"

McGonagall sighed. "As a matter of fact, Miss Granger, I think there is. Would you please accompany me to the Headmaster's office?"

There was a chorus of protests from her friends, but McGonagall's curt gesture silenced them. "That is enough out of you," she said sharply. "This is a matter of serious business. Miss Granger, if you please."

Hermione rose slowly from the couch, concern darkening her eyes. From McGonagall's demeanor she somehow doubted that Dumbledore wanted to see her about the lake incident. So what else could there possibly be? She made a small gesture. "I'm ready, Professor."

McGonagall nodded shortly and strode out of the portrait hole. Frowning slightly to herself, Hermione followed closely in her professor's wake. When they came to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall mumbled the password. When the gargoyle slid away, she strode briskly up the stairs and to the door that led to Dumbledore's office.

She opened the door after a perfunctory knock and stepped inside, Hermione a step behind her. Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, and Fawkes was dozing on his perch. Upon Hermione and McGonagall's entrance, the phoenix woke and eyed them in what Hermione could have sworn was a considering manner. Dumbledore made a gesture toward the two seats that were before his desk. "Miss Granger. Professor McGonagall. Please—both of you take a seat."

The two women seated themselves, McGonagall more stiffly than Hermione. Glancing sideways at her Head of House, Hermione could only surmise that McGonagall was quietly furious. But what confused her was why.

Dumbledore eyed Hermione over his half-moon glasses. "I have heard the reports of the incident today, Miss Granger. Are you feeling well?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes, Professor. Madam Pomfrey said I was well enough, just needed to rest for a few days."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Poppy would know best, I suppose." He was silent for a moment, and to Hermione's surprise, Professor McGonagall burst out, "Come out with it, Albus! This charge is a serious one!"

Dumbledore gave her a compassionate look. "I am aware of the severity of this situation, Minerva. You must let me take things at my own pace."

Hermione blinked in surprise as she saw McGonagall slowly subside. Then Dumbledore pinned her with his steady blue eyes. Suddenly they didn't look so grandfatherly anymore. "I dislike to bring up this topic after your recent scare, but I find that it is necessary."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Of course, Professor. What's wrong?" Her heart fluttered in her chest. Dumbledore's reticence was only making her more nervous. What charge had Professor McGonagall been talking about?"

Dumbledore sighed and folded his hands on his desk and pinned her with a steely blue stare. "Miss Granger, someone has accused you of cheating."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

****

Reviewers:

Thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed! You all make me very happy, and I'm glad that you like my story. I'm sorry about the infrequent updates (or infrequent for me, at least). My computer is being a pain, and school is winding down, but the teachers see fit to give us even _more _work. But it will be done soon, so expect updates to increase in a few weeks. :)

****

ArtemisGirl- Thank you for your lovely review! I'm really glad that you like it, but the cliffhangers probably won't come all in one chapter, as Blaise and Pansy are starting to each have their own agendas. But I'll do my best not to space them out too far. :)

****

Coolgalpotterfan- Also, thank you for your review! I'm quite flattered. *blushes*


End file.
